Angel of Death
by Radioactive88
Summary: Aria Mikaelson was broken in every way imaginable by the death of her twin, Henrik. Turned into an Original along with the rest of her siblings, her shattered mind swings her between the mindset of an eternal, whimsical child and a merciless murderer. After dealing with the Mystic Falls Gang, how will she help her siblings take back New Orleans, as well as find her long lost love?
1. Yin Without Yang

**A/N: I know, I know, I shouldn't be posting another story, but I couldn't help it with this one. For our other readers, I've been struggling with clinical depression and anxiety and the general suckitude of high school. Specifically our other Originals and Titanic story, we are working on those and will continue them.**

 **So, normally we are co-authors (we go by Goldie and Sharpie), but this story is just mine (Goldie's). It's a concept I've been wanting to entertain for a long while now: a Mikaelson sister.**

 **I labelled this an _Originals_ fic, even though it'll overlap some with _The Vampire Diaries_ , but mostly out of necessity, and it will eventually shift over to New Orleans. ****My character, Aria Mikaelson, is the broken, insane, eternally thirteen-year-old twin of the late Henrik Mikaelson, and without much further ado, here's the first chapter! Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much :).**

 **Warnings: Character death (Henrik), grief, suicidal thoughts/actions.**

 **P.S. Face claim of Aria is India Eisley with edits I made on preview, such as making her hair and eyes black. Oh, and KOL MIKAELSON WILL NOT DIE. REPEAT: KOL MIKAELSON WILL NOT DIE IN THAT STUPID-ASS, RIDICULOUS STORYLINE. That is all.**

 **Chapter 1: Yin Without Yang**

 **1001 A.D.**

Sometimes, you can pinpoint the exact moment when your world falls apart beneath your feet. The exact moment when you can feel your heart splitting apart deep in your chest. When you know it'll never heal, and when you know . . . you don't want it to.

My moment was when my twin brother died. My heart broke, my soul shattered, and my mind snapped.

I don't remember much from that day. Niklaus stumbled forward, shouting for my mother, and when I saw a mangled Henrik in his arms . . . My pail of water slipped from my fingers and I dropped to my knees.

There was a harsh ringing in my ears, and blood roared in my head. I heard somebody screaming - a harsh, strangled series of shrieks, and it was only when my family's heads whirled in my direction that I realized it was coming from me. My chest heaved with the motions, and I couldn't budge my frozen muscles as Elijah ran for me, sweeping me up into his burly arms, attempting to shield me from the grotesque site.

It was as if I was watching from outside my body, past the village, as I struggled against my brother like a rabid animal. I punched him, elbowed, kicked, even clamped my teeth into onto his nose when the opportunity allowed for it. He loosed a roar of pain, and I broke free of his hold, running for my twin even though I couldn't feel my legs.

Distantly, I knew that I was still screaming. Howls of wind whipped through the trees, weaving its way through the weakening branches. From far away, I heard the booms of thunder echoing above me, and rain pattered all around us.

My dress ripped at the knees and blood bubbled up from the scrapes as I skidded to my twin's side. There was no other way to put it. He was . . . dead. His once so lively brown eyes were glazed over, gazing into nothingness. I hovered my fingers over the long, brutal gashes in his torso, surrounded by mud and drying blood. My _twin_. Not merely a pair of siblings, but one entire person, our souls sewn together into an unbreakable bond.

"H-Henrik . . ."

That was the precise moment where I was unequivocally destroyed. Gripping handfuls of the oh-so-familiar fabric of his tunic, I tilted my head to the gray, tumultuous sky and poured all of my shock, grief, rage, and sorrow into one ear-shattering wail, and the surrounding world wailed with me.

Leaning forward, I gripped the sides of my twin's ashen face and pressed my forehead to his, crying out at the icy stillness. It was a gesture our family recognized well, where we joined temples, content with the other's physical closeness. We were together in our mother's womb, and sometimes, we needed to shut out the world to remain so again.

But now, our auras no longer mingled as one. He was empty. Barren, and empty. The mangled corpse before me was no longer my brother. I hardly noticed the moisture spilling past my eyelids onto his once joyful features. No longer would he smile, or laugh, or tease me, or say he loved me . . .

"Calm her down," I heard one of my family members insist behind me. "Someone needs to calm her down, before she kills us all!" It had to be my father. I could recognize his gruff voice anywhere, and nobody else would be so cruel as my life crumbled into a pile of ash and pitiful rubble.

Nobody else moved, and my father must've decided to take the initiative, because something hard and blunt slammed into the back of my skull, sending me into a welcoming spiral of blackness.

...

The next time I awoke, I was terribly cold. Still groggy with sleep, I recognized my bed I shared with my sister beneath me, and the heavy weight of my thick, fur blankets. I was in my bedroom that I'd slept in with Bekah and Henrik. Even with three of those spreads of fabric over me, I still shivered with uncontrollable fervor. "She's awake, Mother," a soft voice murmured somewhere besides me. Rebekah, I realized as my eyelids fluttered open, then closed again. "But her fever has not yet broken."

"Son," a voice called out, who sounded like my mother. "Bring me the water basin. Your little sister is conscious, but the fever is still strong in her." There was the sound of a flurry of movement, and a new voice entered the room.

"Will she be all right, Mother?" Deep, soothing voice: Elijah. "Has the grief contributed to her ailments? She has never been so sick before."

Was I sick? Someone - my mother, I assumed - pressed an icy cloth to my forehead and I whimpered in protest. _No, no_ , I wanted to shout at her, _I'm so cold!_ "It is not only the emotional side of it. Aria is a powerful witch, and Henrik was a powerful young warlock. With their underlying deep connection, they relied on each other's sources of magic to thrive. Aria has now been stripped of that, and her body is not reacting well."

There was a long pause where only my own heavy breathing pierced the silence, and another one of my brothers came in. "I'm a warlock too, Mother." Kol, then. "Perhaps my presence would help ease her magical core?" She must have nodded, because my mattress lowered above my head and a large hand enveloped my small, dainty one. "I am here, Ri." Henrik and Kol were the only two who could get away with calling me that.

Opening my eyes again, I started once I noticed a familiar figure standing behind both women and my second eldest brother. My twin! "Henrik," I murmured, reaching for him, not noticing the concerned glances my mother, sister, and Elijah exchanged. "Henrik, why are you standing so far away? Come closer . . ."

Mother gently pushed my arm back down, and blinking once, Henrik disappeared. The haze of fever dissipated any sense of logic or coherent thoughts from my mind, and instead, I frowned in confusion. Why did he leave? "Rest, my dear child," my mother hummed into my ear, and I listened to her, embracing the comfort of slumber.

...

After an immeasurable period of time, I shot up, drenched in sweat. I panted and tugged aimlessly at my ruined dress to remove it from my sticky, sweltering skin. A slightly larger, but no less delicate hand cupped my own and I looked up into my older sister of five years' wide, ocean-blue eyes. My other hand was still being held by Kol. "How are you feeling?" my sister asked kindly.

My head pounded like nothing else, and I felt sick to my stomach. My body was as drained and exhausted as my mind. Still, a cloud of sickness dominated my thoughts. Kol and Rebekah were with me, but as much as I loved them, I wanted my twin. "W-Where is Henrik?"

A thick sheen of moisture coated Bekah's beautiful eyes, and I tilted my head to the side in bewilderment. "Do not cry, sweet sister," I said softly, prying my shaky, weak hand from her grip to rest it against her cheek. "All is well. I have been sick before, and I will be sick again. I have not died yet, unless I haven't noticed . . . Where is Henrik?" Henrik and I would invariably end up sick along with the other, since we were so inseparable.

Tears spilled down Rebekah's cheeks, and I dropped my hand. She ducked her head away as her shoulders shook with uncontrollable sobs. ". . . Bekah?"

Kol must've understood my fragile mental state more than her. "Henrik isn't here right now, baby sister," he whispered into my ear, his breath hot against my sweaty face. "Rest now, and everything will be clear again." With much effort, I shifted my gaze between the two of them before Kol pushed me down back onto my back with uncharacteristic tenderness. "Sleep well, Ri." I obeyed him without a single protest, which was beyond rare for me, the wild and carefree Mikaelson twin.

...

It was a fitful, restless slumber. When I awoke again, I didn't entirely break into the land of the living, but every part of my body ached and throbbed. Gasping in painful breaths, I thrashed my limbs about in a failed effort to relieve the agony residing in my body. "Mother, come quick!" This was a new voice. Male - higher than Elijah's, lower than Kol's. A brief glimpse displayed shoulder-length wavy blond locks, but my mind was too muddled and distorted to recognize Niklaus. "She's in pain, and her fever is higher than ever!"

From a faraway land, I could feel somebody still holding my hand. Who it was, though, I could not remember. My throat tightened, and I managed to tilt my head over the bed as I emptied the contents of my stomach. Slipping into a bout of sobs, I coughed up mouthfuls of saliva, bile, and another liquid that tasted saltier and more metallic than the others. "Damn it all to hell!" the person holding my hand shouted. "Mother, she's coughing blood!"

"Henrik," I moaned, as I continued to cough up the aforementioned blood, the crimson liquid leaking down from my lips onto the front of my nightgown somebody must've changed me into at some point. "Henrik, where are you, I need you!" Blindly, I whipped my free hand about, frantic to grasp onto him. " _Henrik_ , please!" I was growing hysterical.

The grip on my hand tightened, and I barely noticed a woman I assumed to be my mother muttering words in a language I could not understand. "Henrik!" I screeched at the top of my lungs, agony shooting through my chest as I did so. "I need you!"

"I am here, sister, I am here." Almost immediately, I relaxed into a placid state of calm, the pain no longer so difficult to bear when my twin was here. "Fret no longer, I am here beside you." My eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, and Henrik's voice strained in something akin to panic. "No, no, Ri, keep your eyes shut. All you need to know is that I am here with you."

" _Kol_ -" a voice echoed somewhere to the side of me, objecting. Kol? Where was Kol? Other than Henrik, he was the brother I was closest to, by a slim margin. I did not like to pick favorites. "This is _wrong_. You cannot trick her like this -"

"Shut it, Bekah!" Henrik snapped at our elder sister. That was strange. Henrik was always kind and sweet in comparison to my crassness. He never spoke to her in such a disrespectful manner. "I'm bloody helping her!"

"Don't speak to her like that," the first voice I heard when I woke up growled to my twin.

"You can shut it too, Nik!" That was even more strange. Henrik adored Nik. He worshipped the ground he _walked_ on.

If I had my wits about me, I would have understood instantly. But, alas, in my muddled confusion, I only wanted Henrik.

"Henrik," I whimpered, my heart rate slowing as his forehead connected with mine. Yes, this had to be my twin. It was a gesture used by only us. "You're here with me?"

"Yes, sister, I am here," he murmured into my sweaty hairline. "Go back to sleep, now. I will be here when you awaken, and with any luck, you will be feeling much better."

"I will, Henrik . . ." Once again, I drifted off. This time, it was a peaceful sleep.

...

When I awoke again, much later, I was much clearer in the head. Or so I thought. Groaning, I lifted myself into a sitting position, tucking my ebony curls of hair behind my ears. Nobody was with me. They must have assumed I was still sleeping, and were eating while they could.

"Ri!" I jumped, but my face broke apart into a wide smile as I saw the boy before me. Wavy black hair, the same shade of mine, fell to his shoulders, and his almost black eyes twinkled with mischief. "You've finally awoken!" He danced to the square-shaped hole in my wall that acted as a window, with makeshift curtains. "Come, sister. Let's go play."

"What are you going on about now, Henrik?" I asked, amused, but still swinging my legs over the bed and allowing my bare feet to come into contact with the dirty floor. "I thought _I_ was the one meant to come up with reckless and foolhardy schemes destined to throw us into danger."

For a long moment, he stared deep into my eyes, an unfathomable look crossing his youthful features. "You are, Ri. You are doing this. This is you."

He sounded positively creepy when he said that. I crossed my arms, utterly nonplussed. "What are you _talking_ about?"

The weird expression faded as quickly as it arrived, and the corners of his lips tweaked up into a bright smile. "Never you mind, sister. Follow me!" Without further ado, he hurled himself out of my window, as we'd both done so many times before. I didn't give it a second's thought of further consideration before mimicking him.

I gasped as the freezing night air came into contact with my thin, worn-out nightgown and my naked arms. It was so, so _cold_. Yet, Henrik paid no mind to the weather. It didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Since I refused to be any less courageous than my twin, I followed him on swift, nimble feet. "Slow down, you buffoon!"

If it were possible, he only lengthened his stride. "I cannot, Ri! They will soon notice you are gone, and you will be caught!"

Pushing my legs harder and faster, I finally matched his pace, twigs and sticks slicing up my feet and leaving them muddy and bloodied. "Don't you mean we will be caught, brother?"

Henrik looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "No, I don't." And he only continued on, leaving me to scrounge up more strength and stamina to follow close behind.

"Where are we going?" I panted, icy air sucking into my lungs and making them hurt.

"To the river!" he cried joyfully. The river was one of our favorite places to spend time together - in the summer, mostly, when we could swim and splash around like the children we were. In the other seasons, though, it was nice to lounge on the riverbank and watch the water lap at the shore, to have a moment or two of quiet from the rest of our hectic family.

Tripping over a particularly hidden tree root, I fell forward and rolled a few times down a small, mossy ravine before sprawling onto my hands and knees right in front of the river. I decided to be optimistic, even when my palms and kneecaps smarted like nothing else. "Well, I got here faster than you!"

It was the truth. He skidded next to me only a second or two later, but still, I arrived first. With one of his wolfish grins that was a perfect reflection of mine, he bellowed, "Watch this!" and leapt straight into the air, tucking his knees into his chest and plummeting through the river's rippling surface.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" I shouted as his head bobbed up again. Had we switched roles entirely? He was the good twin, and _I_ was the bad twin! "Have you lost your damn mind? Winter is upon us in a measure of two moons!"

Again, he fixed me with one of those eerie, knowing stares. That, and the combination of the moonlight pouring in between the tree branches, I was almost a little afraid. Of what, I didn't know. But never him. Never my twin. " _You_ have lost your mind, Ri. This is _your_ idea."

I recoiled in on myself, deeply confused. "What the hell are you going on about now? You've all but dragged me here with you!"

Henrik's countenance cleared up once more and he smiled, opening his arms up wide in a typical Mikaelson gesture. "Whatever you say, Ri. Come on in! The water's freezing this time of year, but that's half the fun of it!" I shifted my weight from foot to foot, already shivering from my lack of proper covering and the breeze whistling through the trees. He grinned even wider. "I _dare_ you!"

He knew perfectly well, as well as the rest of my siblings, I could _never_ turn down a dare. Especially not from _him_. So, without further ado, I propelled myself forward and dove into the dark waves.

Cold was the understatement of the century. My limbs tensed in shock as the freezing temperature set in, and I slammed into the graveled bottom of the river, my already numb fingers scraping against the pebbles. I expected Henrik to help pull me to the surface, as he always did, but he didn't this time.

The current was also stronger than I expected. No sooner than I burst through the surface was I yanked back under again and forced downstream. Only a well-placed clump of grass that I knit my fingers into stopped me from going any further, and I greedily gulped in air once I arose above the surface once more. To my utter surprise, Henrik was standing on the shore, his clothes as dry as they were a minute ago, as if he hadn't been touched by a single droplet of water. "What are you doing?" My voice shook with the cold and slight fear.

Henrik walked over to me and knelt where I struggled to stay afloat, making no moves to assist my endeavors. "Why would you make me do this?" I all but yelled in his face. "This is a ridiculous idea! You might've damned me to death, brother!"

He pressed his hand over mine, and my heart skipped a beat when I realized I couldn't feel a damn thing. It was as if he wasn't even there. "No, sister. You have damned yourself to death. You _want_ to die."

Now he'd truly began his descent into madness. "You bloody well know that's not true!" I cried, the clump of grass starting to rip free of the dirt, my legs lifting behind me in response to the hungry current. "Why would I want to die? That means I would leave _you_ , and you're right here!"

He smiled - a sad, melancholy little smile. As if he pitied me. "Oh, Ri. I died. Don't you remember? I went with Nik to see the wolves, and they slaughtered me. He brought my body back."

I shrieked as an influx of unwanted memories invaded my mind. "No, no, that's not true! You're lying! Why would you lie to me?" I half-sobbed, half-screamed. "We tell each other everything; there are no secrets between us!"

Henrik loosed a deep sigh, and slowly shook his head. "No, there _weren't_ any secrets between us. But I'm dead, Ri. I'm not really here at all. You're imagining me because you can't cope with the grief." My mouth opened and closed, but my retort caught in my throat. "I'm dead, and you do not want to live without me. I did not lead you to the river. You came here by yourself. You want to die. You just thought it would be easier to die with me by your side, even if I'm not really here."

I choked on my flow of tears as the grass truly started to shred beneath my hand, and I began to drift away from the shore. "No, no, Henrik, please, help me!" Making a blind grab for his hand, I collapsed back into the water when he did not reach me halfway, as he would've done any other time. "Henrik, don't leave me! Save me!"

Henrik stood up and his beautiful brown eyes filled to the brim with tears. "I'm sorry, Ri. But I cannot save you when you do not want to be saved. Goodbye, sister." And with that, he strolled away, before ultimately disappearing into a wisp of a shadow. He was gone. Yet, he was never here to begin with.

The grass finally pulled free of the dirt, and I released my loudest scream yet as I shot downstream, nothing to act as a barrier now. When all fight in my body left me, I murmured, "I'm sorry, Henrik. Forgive me," before drifting down below the surface, allowing the darkness to engulf me.

I wasn't the same person after that. I was barely half of one, and not the good half, at that. I should have died that day, along with my dear twin. If I had, perhaps, then I wouldn't have been swept up in my family's long reign of terror and violence. Long live the Mikaelsons . . .

 **A/N: So, what'd you think? Like it, love it, hate it? Let me know in the comments! Who do you think will save Aria from drowning, and how will she end up becoming a vampire along with the rest of her siblings?**


	2. The Betrayals

**A/N: Wow, I absolutely LOVED the feedback for the first chapter, guys! Thank you soooo much. You guys totally rock. Anyway, this chapter you'll see that Aria has a very toxic relationship with Mikael, similar to Klaus, but for an entirely different reason. Hint: it relates to Freya. She calls Klaus "Nikky," and at first glance, that might seem preposterous since both Rebekah and Kol call him "Nik" and that's the most nickname-y they get, but Henrik and Aria both always called him that and he allowed them since they're the babies of the family.**

 **Aria also calls Kol "Ollie" and is the only one to do so (Henrik did as well), because it's the only nickname they could think of deriving from his already short name. Even though it lengthens it, it's her term of endearment for him.**

 **Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy! Thank you so much! :D**

 **Warnings: Suicidal thoughts (not explicit), child abuse, and the murdering of children by their batshit crazy Viking father.**

 **Also, Kol has a brief perspective in this chapter, but it's in third-person, so when it switches back to first-person, you'll know it's back to Aria.**

 **Chapter 2: The Betrayals**

Death was close, I could _feel_ it. I couldn't hold my breath any longer, and sucked in a lungful of river water. I was drowning, and I didn't care. There was no life without Henrik. It was true, what my hallucination of him told me. I _wanted_ to die.

Unfortunately, I never got what I wanted. A pair of strong, masculine hands hauled me up from the muddy bottom and pulled me out of the river. _It's too late_ , I thought almost gleefully. _I'm going to die, and then I'll be with Henrik_.

I was brought out of that comfortable blackness as a fist pounded against my chest, and then warm lips met my cold ones, forcing air into my lungs. I was too weak to protest, and after a few rounds of that process, water bubbled out of my mouth and I began to cough and sputter. "Thank the gods," my savior murmured, cupping the back of my head and pulling me into an exceptionally tight hug. "I heard you scream, and I thought I was too late. . . ."

Niklaus. It was Nik who saved me. His long blond hair dripped onto my equally wet head, but I didn't mind. Now that I was alive, I needed my big brother, who was twenty and three years of age compared to my ten and three.

"He's g-gone, Nikky," I whimpered against his broad chest, snuggling closer to him to soak in any warmth he had left after leaping into the river after me. I was the only one who could call him "Nikky" and live to tell the tale. "Henrik i-is gone. He t-told me so. After he told m-me to j-jump into the r-river. But it w-was not him . . ."

"I know, Ari. I know." He pressed a tender kiss down onto the crown of my head, and I gripped onto his wet shirt fabric for dear life. In one swift move, he hoisted me up, cradling me to his chest as if I were a mere babe. Unable to lift my head up any longer, I comforted myself with the steady thudding of his heart. _Lub-lub, lub-lub, lub-lub_ . . . "I am so sorry, baby sister. It is _my_ fault."

Fading in and out of consciousness, I had the alertness to immediately deny his previous statement. "No, Nikky . . . It was nobody's fault." My eyelids, ever so heavy, fluttered closed. "I do not blame you, big brother. Do not blame yourself, I cannot bear any more suffering . . ." If it was possible, he squeezed me tighter to him.

"No more suffering, sister. You are here with me. I will protect you, always and forever."

"I love you, Nikky," I murmured into his chest.

That being said, he adjusted me in his hold. "Let us get you home, Ari. You are freezing, and I could never live with myself if we lost both of you within a fortnight." He broke into a run, but I was safe in his hold.

"Fortnight?" I asked after a moment's thought. "It was . . . today, was it not?"

"You've been shifting in and out of consciousness for a whole fortnight, sister. All of us have been terribly worried about you."

"Even Father?" I highly doubted it. We never got along. It was not even his blatant preference of Henrik over me. At best, in his eyes, I simply wasn't . . . necessary. At worst, I was a threat and a burden. So, at best, he ignored me and at worst, he used me as a target for his rage, Nik and I suffering most from the brunt of his wrath. He had his sons, although he despised Nik and wasn't fond of Kol, and Rebekah as his firstborn daughter who would work as a bargaining chip for marriage. I was the second daughter with powerful magic, the only other girl in the family to wield the art besides my mother.

Little did I know at the time, the reason behind his hatred was that his _true_ firstborn daughter, Freya, the only child he ever wholeheartedly loved, was a witch. He never wanted another one in the family after her loss, which broke his heart and turned it to stone.

"You need not let Father's apathy bother you," he mumbled after a minute or two. "We are used to it, are we not? The son and daughter he cannot find it in him to love. We have each other, and Elijah, and Rebekah, and Kol. Even Finn, to an extent . . ."

Shivering even more violently than before, I saw the faint imprint of our home in the distance. "Father loves the rest of them, as much as he can. Why not us? We did _nothing_ to him." Now was not the time to be angry about this, but I wasn't exactly in a stable state of mind.

"You do not need Father," he reiterated more firmly this time. "You have me." Only over the many centuries after did I realize he truly meant to displace the paternal role in my life, never quite shaking the habit, with me or Bekah. Sometimes I appreciated his protectiveness. Other times I ended up with a dagger in my heart.

"I have you," I repeated softly, numbness crawling through my wrecked form. "And you have me . . ."

"And I have you."

He roared for Mother as we entered our dwelling, but my consciousness already began to slip. I was not quite off death's doorstep yet.

"Get her onto her bed!" Mother ordered to Niklaus. "Rebekah and I will strip her of her wet clothes."

Once I was on the bed and Niklaus left to change his own clothes, quick and nimble hands peeled off my soaked nightdress and tucked me into a new one. My wet hair still clung to my skin, though, and my teeth chattered ceaselessly.

"Elijah, Kol!" Mother barked out into the hallway as Rebekah lay blanket upon blanket over me, smoothing out the hair strewn over my forehead in a loving sisterly gesture. "Strip off your shirts and enter the bed with Aria. Your body heat will warm her up more quickly than any blanket ever could."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elijah and Kol pause minutely at the command, then almost immediately pull their long tunics over their head. Elijah looked a tad awkward, which was unusual for his calm and confident self, but Kol never passed an opportunity to show off his bulging and well-defined muscles. At twenty and six years old and twenty respectively, they were at the prime of their youth.

They crawled under the blankets with me and wrapped me up in a dual brotherly embrace, and I was crushed under their broad chests and rock-hard biceps. If I were any girl but their sister, I would be ecstatic at my position, but alas, I had to focus on stifling my mild disgust and, more importantly, not freezing to death. "You're so cold, sister," Kol complained as I pressed my icy hands against his shoulder to warm them up. "Jumping in a _river_ at this time of year, bloody _madness_ . . ."

"Enough, Kol, the poor girl has suffered enough," Elijah sighed tiredly from the left of me, tightening his hold on me in accordance with his scold. He pressed a kiss down onto my damp head. "You are safe now, Aria."

"Bloody hell, I know that," Kol retorted to Elijah, passive aggressively pulling me closer to him. "Of all people, I know how much she's suffered, I've been there damn near the entire time, holding her hand and soothing her magic."

"I'm sorry, Ollie," I murmured into his bare chest. As with my nickname for Niklaus, Henrik and I had been the only ones who could call Kol that and not face his vengeful temper. "That you've had to stay with me for so long . . ."

"Sorry? Why would you be sorry?" he replied sharply. "You need not be sorry for things you cannot control. There's no point to that." He sighed; a long, exhausted sound. "I cannot stay angry with you, baby sister, so I should not even bother. Elijah is right. You've suffered enough."

Mother set up a cauldron of sorts and began fixing ingredients together. "Finn," she instructed to the oldest male who lurked in the doorway, "replace Kol so he can help me with this warming spell. Kol, come." Obediently, Finn removed his shirt and climbed next to me, which was astronomically more uncomfortable than before. Finn and I had never been in such close quarters in years. I climbed onto Kol for various reasons - to attack him, to pretend I was his height, to mess up his hair, to force him to carry me. . . . I never had the same relationship with Finn. We dutifully avoided eye contact, and I shifted closer to Elijah.

Niklaus entered with dry clothes, and Mother didn't order him next to me too, likely since his hair was still dripping wet. Slowly but surely, my violent shivers began to even out.

That was when Father entered my room for the first time in that long, agonizing fortnight. The rage gleaming bright in his eyes was an emotion I'd long since recognized in him. " _Enough_ ," he spat, shouldering Nik into a wall as he made meaningful tracks for me. Instinctively, I cowered under Elijah's bigger body, using him as protection. It wasn't enough.

Father was furious with me, for whatever reason I'd wronged him this time. He grabbed me harshly by the elbow and hauled me off the bed, even as Elijah made moves to hold onto me. Kol was on his feet in an instant, his posture tense and poised to fight. It wasn't enough.

"You've caused everyone enough trouble, girl," Father growled into my ear as he dragged me from my room, my feet stumbling beneath me as he supported most of my weight. "No more."

"Mikael, enough!" Mother shouted after him, but he was too quick.

Father backhanded me across the face, pain blossoming on my cheekbone, and threw me to the ground like I was _nothing_. I hissed as my sore body connected with the hard floor. "We've already lost your twin! You _dare_ attempt to take your own life, worrying your mother _sick_?! And the rest of them pamper you, trying to _warm you up_ ," he sneered down at me from where he loomed above me. "I'll warm you up!"

The rest of my family only just entered our main room when Father grabbed a fire poker, one he used to brand our animals. It was glowing red and hot, in the shape of an "M", for Mikaelson. The sleeve of my nightgown had slipped slightly off my shoulder, revealing an area of tender skin above my breast, but below my collar bone.

Father pressed the poker against that area of tender skin and the sound that erupted from me was not human.

My throat felt as if it would tear straight open as the strangled, choked scream forced its way up into the open as the "M" dug into my skin. There was nothing like the smell of human sizzling skin. I won't bother to describe it; if you haven't experienced it, then it is impossible to explain, other than it was one of the most disgusting and gut-wrenching stenches I had ever been exposed to.

He removed the fire poker, but I continued to shriek, tears rolling down my cheeks as my shoulders lurched forward in agony, unable to do anything to relieve the white-hot excruciating pain. Faint wisps of smoke curled up from my skin. "You're nothing but a burden and a freak!" he bellowed down at me, and if I had been in a coherent state, I would have noticed the raw grief behind his eyes - for my brother, not I. "It should have been _you_! Not Henrik! It should have been _you_ who died!"

Kol reached me first, shoving past Father to do so. I wailed as he hovered his fingers over my new brand, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of it. He swore viciously under his breath. "Damn you to the pits of hell!" he shouted up at our father, the most direct act of disobedience he'd demonstrated in a very long while. "She's just a little girl!"

Mother intercepted Father's warpath, and my dear sister was the next to arrive by my side. "Oh, sister," she cried, her long eyelashes wet with droplets of tears. She made the mistake of touching it, if only a feather's touch, but I still howled again. Bekah retracted her hand as if she burned _it_. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

She did not get a chance to finish. An unnatural, fearsome wind started roaring through the open entrance, swirling around the main room like a deadly whirlpool. My family all rushed to clutch on to a piece of furniture, as to not get sucked into my creation. Never before had I such inability to control my magic. Henrik had always checked me, as I had him. But now . . .

" _Enough_!" the uncaring beast above me roared, lifting me up by the front of my nightgown and wrapping his calloused fingers around my throat, pushing me up against a wall and steadily lifting me off my feet, effectively crushing my windpipe. "You will not use magic in this home any longer! Not like - not like _her."_ Freya, he meant, but I had no way of knowing that.

Which is why I had not a sliver of sympathy for the harsh man, and gave into my newfound insanity. I gathered up every scrap of my magic and directed the full force of it at a single target: my father. It was catastrophic. He flew across the room in a terrific arc, crashing into the bedroom that Bekah and I shared, taking down half the wall with him. It used to be Henrik's room, too. No longer . . .

Collapsing to my feet, I fixed him with a hateful glare, embracing the dark fury stewing inside of me. "Touch me one more time, and it will be the _last_ thing you do."

He scrambled to a stand, even though he must've been in considerable pain, and squared his now dusty shoulders at me. I blocked out any other noise or sight in the room, and only focused on him. "Is that a threat, girl? Toward your own _father_?!"

I clenched my fists until they shook and blood trickled down my palms. "Not a threat, _Father_ ," I spat the word as if it burned my tongue. "A promise. I could kill you with a flick of my wrist, and I bloody well _want_ to!" I finished with a shout, feeling more animal than human. "I would watch the light leave your eyes, and _enjoy_ it. You are dead to me already, _Father._ You have been for a very, very long time. I might as well make it _true._ " I noticed the brief flash of hurt in his icy chips of eyes. I did not care. The burning, raging ball of ferality inside of me wanted _desperately_ to be quenched.

I said that my mind snapped after the death of my twin. It was not a lie. The person I was before was long gone, and I no longer recognized myself. I wanted to kill my own father, and I did not feel any guilt for it, only murderous desire.

"I will let you live," I announced, jutting out my chin with an uncharacteristic arrogance. "But know this: it is only because I am _better_ than you. You have been bested, _Father._ By your _burden_ and _freak_ of a daughter."

His next words would haunt me for centuries to come, even though it was hardly a surprise. "I think not. You are no daughter of _mine_. It should have been _you_ who died, girl."

It was like the breath was knocked out of me, but I refused to show my moment of weakness. In fact, I did not spare him another glance as I swept into the mangled bedroom, snapping the curtains shut behind me.

Only then did I allow myself to weep. My own father disowned me, and my other half was a rotting piece of meat in the ground. What had my life turned into? And yet, the worst was still to come.

I vehemently wished none of my siblings to follow me in, not even my dearest Kol. He would not understand. Yet when Niklaus quietly entered the bedroom, I could not find it in me to tell him to leave. "Hello, baby sister," he murmured, tentatively making moves to sit next to me.

"Hello, big brother," I whispered back. "Have you come to bestow wisdom upon me? No need. I am undeserving of your enormous breadth of knowledge."

He shot me a look as he settled on the bed next to me. "Rid yourself of the attitude, little girl, this is why trouble falls upon you." I stared down at my hands, crimson blood smeared across my fingertips and palms. I wiped them onto the knees of my nightgown, red clashing violently against white. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry _that_ -" he pointed at the still throbbing mark near my right shoulder, "- happened to you."

"He disowned me." I fiddled with the cloth of my now-stained nightgown. "I am no longer his daughter."

Niklaus rested a much larger hand onto my own, regardless of the sticky blood. "His blood still runs through your veins. He cannot deny that."

A bitter, sardonic smile crept across my lips. "But he can deny me in every way that matters. Every way that hurts. I have loathed the man for years, and yet, he continues to destroy me."

"And when you think you are broken beyond repair," he finished for me, "he finds a way to shatter the remains and burn the ashes. I understand more than anyone else, sister. _I understand_."

I leaned my head onto his shoulder, and he cupped my head with his free hand. "We are the outcasts of this family," I mumbled. "Always and forever."

He nodded against my temple. ". . . Always and forever, indeed."

 **Kol's Perspective**

Kol was worried about his baby sister. It had been an entire moon since Henrik's death, and she was wasting away. She refused to leave her room, and she would not eat. The only reason she would drink was because one of the Mikaelson brothers would force water unceremoniously down her throat. She wanted to die, that much Kol was certain of. And even though he would admit it to no one, it broke his heart.

"Hello, Ri," he greeted cheerily as he entered the bedroom she shared with Bekah, Bekah off cooking dinner with Mother. "How are you this fine evening -" He paused once he saw that she was not in her unmade bed. "Are we playing hide and seek, darling? Because you know I'm a master at that game. I will destroy you and I will have no remorse about it, either."

"Hello, Ollie, and I bid welcome to your inflated ego, as well," she hummed from where she rested on the perch of their far window, her long, ebony spirals of hair shining blue in the weakening sunlight. Her eyes were dark and mischievous, almost black, an exact replica of Henrik's. She had not shown such life in a grand number of days! He grinned at her, and she grinned back. "It's a fine evening indeed. Come, brother dear. I have something to show you."

Curiously, he joined from where she precariously straddled on their window. A vibrant blue and black butterfly sat on her sickly pale wrist, calm and content. Aria always had a natural affinity with animals. "Ah, a butterfly, how lovely," Kol deadpanned, not interested in some winged insect.

Aria ignored him, and continued on as if he had not spoken. "It's such a silly little creature, isn't it?" She peered closer at it with a childish fascination, her eyes sparkling like jewels. "It's so bright and beautiful that it attracts all sorts of predators. Any second, soaring through the air or drinking from a flower, it could be eaten by a bird. Just like that. One second it's alive, and the next, it is not. Yet, here the butterfly is," she laughed softly as it fluttered its wings in agreement, "continuing on being bright and beautiful, even in the face of death. In such a dark, terrible world, we need bright and beautiful things. . . ."

Kol had nothing to say. Aria was never one to pay any heed to such tiny details. She was always too busy concocting some devilish scheme to cause trouble or general inconvenience. The girl was never one to "stop and smell the roses." No, she was the one to set the roses on fire, and toss them into the neighbor's garden because he leered at Bekah for too long.

But, alas, Henrik's death had taken its toll on her, as it had for all of them. In Kol's opinion, it damaged her mind somehow. It reverted her to a younger state half the time, where she was sweet and childlike. The other half of the time, if one set her off, she was dark and angry and wrathful, ready to tear throats out, like when she used her magic against Father. It was mind-boggling.

Kol did not like to admit it, but he believed that she truly lost her mind. Father certainly thought so, and it made Kol want to strangle him, despite the nagging warning that he was right. It did not matter to him, though. He still loved her, still loved the remaining half of the pair of siblings who accepted him unconditionally.

"Henrik liked bright and beautiful things," she said suddenly, allowing the butterfly to fly from her arm as she lowered it to her lap, now abruptly melancholy. "He always told me to stop and watch the sunset, or smell wildflowers, or enjoy our abundance of nature. I never paid him any mind, and now, he will never know that I finally listened."

Aria hunched her shoulders in sorrow, and the fabric shifted, giving Kol a full view of the horrid mark their father branded upon her. It was a large and hideous "M" for Mikaelson, marring what once was smooth, milky white skin with its ugliness. Kol offered to heal it with magic, but she refused.

"If I ever forget why I hate that man, gods forbid, I would like an obvious reminder," she had said.

There was nothing that Kol could say to truly console her. Any attempt would be patronizing and cruel, as if to box up her grief and label it, when she lost her other half. There was nothing that could change the past, and nothing that could heal the wounds slashed deep inside of her.

He did not know what to say, so he did not say anything about the loss looming over both of them. "We are being treated to a celebratory family dinner tonight, and Father wishes you to come."

She arched a long black eyebrow and she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Does he now? Am I part of the family again? I had not realized." Anger written into her stance, she jumped away from the window, and began pacing with a ferocity he had not seen in her a minute before. "And what does he mean by a _celebratory_ family dinner? We are meant to celebrate our tragedy? Or are we meant to celebrate that we are still living, while my dear twin rots in the ground?"

Her small, dainty fists trembled in rage, and gone was the whimsical, innocent girl who rambled on about butterflies not five minutes before. Replacing her was a vengeful little thing, who looked intent on murdering the next person to displease her, most likely their father. The sudden change in mood was enough to make Kol dizzy. "Whatever the reason, _fuck him_." Kol nearly started in surprise. Women and girls swearing with such vulgarity was severely frowned upon. Not that Aria was any normal girl, he reasoned after a few moments' consideration. _Of course not, that would be boring!_ He smirked. "I am not attending this _celebratory_ dinner. Whatever delicious meal I'm sure Mother prepared, he can shove it up his shriveled, hateful arse."

The girl was out for _blood_ , Kol realized with vivacious amusement. Oh, how he would love to unleash her in this state on their father. She would demolish him with her magic, and he would gladly assist her in her assassination. But still, what a horrifying image . . . "First of all, spare the gruesome details before you traumatize me for life. I do not need to picture Father's shriveled arse. Secondly, come for _me_!" Kol all but whined. "Do not allow me to be surrounded by those dullards we call a family!"

A huff escaped her nose; she was not accepting his reasoning. "Nik and Bekah are hardly boring. Let them entertain you. I would much rather stick that hot poker Father used on me into my _eye_ then attend the dinner."

There was only one last argument Kol had up his sleeve, the one most likely to prevail. "We are being served wine, Ri," he bargained. "If you sit by me and amuse me, I will cover for you as you fall hopelessly drunk."

Still stony-gazed, she stared at him for a long moment. "Fine, then. It's a deal. But not for you. Only for the promise of alcohol."

"Works for me."

...

Throughout that entire conversation, Kol had been looking at me as if I'd gone insane. Perhaps I had, but still, I did not appreciate his intense scrutinization. It bothered me more than I'd care to admit. But what bothered me most was myself. It was as if I had dual identities, opposites of each other, and I could not control _either_.

Bloody hell, I needed a drink or two or twenty. I would stay at the dinner table as long as the wine kept flowing. I needed to become so drunk I could tolerate my father for more than five minutes and forget all about Henrik.

All eyes were upon me as I sat down at my designated spot at the dining table. It did not escape my notice that there was a painfully empty seat beside me, never to be filled again. I had not eaten more than whatever my brothers could force down my throat, so this was a rarity for me. "I have brought the guest of honor," Kol quipped, and I shot him daggers of death.

I did not look at anybody else or touch the food as I gulped down my full glass of wine greedily, then almost spat it out. There was a salty and metallic taste to it, and it was repulsive. _Ugh._ It almost wasn't worth it. But, alas, my burning desire to drink away my problems urged me on.

I was nowhere near drunk enough when my entire family, excluding my mother, had taken at least a swig of the wine before . . . Father stuck his sword into his nearest child's chest, who happened to be Bekah. One second, she was drinking from her wine glass and chatting merrily with my brothers, and then she was dead. "B-Bekah," croaked out of me as I sat there, frozen and stunned. "N-No, _no_ . . ."

The whole table erupted in chaos. Niklaus and Elijah shouted out in synchronized horror as they lunged for her, and a choked, awful noise exited my throat as they received the same treatment. Three more of my siblings dead in less than ten seconds. My mind went numb with shock.

Kol's hand gripped mine and he tugged me from the table, ragged and tortured breaths lurching his chest to and fro. He was as petrified as me. Somebody was screaming uncontrollably, and like with Henrik's death, I realized it was me.

Finn was murdered next, and his body crumbled down alongside Elijah's, Nik's, and Bekah's. Mother watched in solemn silence as our father killed us off, one by one. That left Kol and I, who Father was now coming for with a vengeance. Terrified to my very bones, I fumbled for Kol's arm and together, we connected our magic and prepared for his attack.

It was too late. Father aimed for me first, and I gasped as the blade plunged brutally right through my heart. There was a split second of exquisite agony, then everything went black, and I died.

 **A/N: So, what'd you think? Like it, love it, hate it? Let me know, I loooove feedback. What kind of vampire do you think Aria will be? Hint: she'll be similar to Kol and Klaus.**


	3. Reborn

**A/N: Ayyyy, I'm so happy with the positive responses this story is getting, guys! I'm about to publish a Kol x OC story called "Music of the Night", so stay tuned for that! I have AP tests next week and I'm currently dying inside, so after that, I'll have more time to write.**

 **Now, I'm not sure or not if the Originals actually knew they were _immortal_ when Esther cast the spell on them or just invincible, but in this story, Esther knew the components of the spell besides the whole blood lust factor. This chapter is pretty packed with grief as Aria comes to terms with Henrik's loss, and a heavy dose of vamp violence.**

 **Anyway, without much further ado, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Warnings: Graphic, fairly descriptive violence near the end (if you want to avoid it, it's when the gang of boys approach Aria in the forest).**

 **Chapter 3: Reborn**

Now, I was _definitely_ not drunk enough for what occurred next. I woke up. The last thing I remembered was my father _murdering_ me, yet I woke up. I _distinctly_ remembered a sword sticking through my heart. "O-Ollie?" I whispered once I noticed him lying still beside me, his chest stained with crimson. He was dead.

And then he wasn't. Color returned to his cheeks as he sucked in an enormous breath, shooting up and panting with a wild look in his eye. "What the bloody hell - I'm _dead_! I was - I was dead!" Then he saw me, and enveloped me in one of the tightest hugs he had ever given me. I gladly returned it, still shocked out of my mind. "You were too . . ."

Something was different. I did not feel the same as I did before Father butchered me like an animal. My throat burned and ached for something I could not pinpoint, and everything hurt. And I meant _everything_. The firelight was too bright, the floor was painful against my bones, I could hear trees rustling off in the far distance . . .

Father had the damn nerve to return. Before Kol and I could begin to rage at him, he dropped a frightened girl at our feet. Kol and I exchanged a bewildered look. Was this meant to be a peace offering? Because if it was, I was considering on declaring bloody _war_.

Still . . . a frantic, delightful pulse thumped through her, that I could _hear_ , and my mouth watered. I wanted it. I wanted it to be mine. I wanted _her_ to be mine. "Drink," he ordered down to us, and I blinked at him. "Drink!" he reiterated, slicing a knife down each of the poor girl's wrists.

Kol and I did not need a third warning. It was as if something beastly was controlling my body as I dove forward and sunk my teeth into the poor girl's wrist, reveling in the thick, warm liquid that trickled down my throat, quenching the desperate thirst.

The blood was _delicious_ \- no, more than that, it was _euphoric_. And it changed me, from the very beginning. My dull human teeth extended into razor-sharp canines, where I then easily tore further into her vulnerable wrist, slicing through veins as if I was born to do so. An odd pressure formed beneath my eyes, where my own blood thrummed and roared in approval.

I loved it. I loved the taste, the feeling of sucking the very life out of her, the _control_ that came along with it - _all of it_. After a too short of a time, Father snatched the girl away from us before she could die.

Frustrated, I rolled back onto my haunches and glanced at Kol, who was still licking every last drop off his lips, and rose to my feet with a newfound grace.

Blood dribbled down my chin onto my front as I faced my father, and I snarled at him, an animalistic sound rumbling from my chest. " _More_. I want _more_." With an impossible speed, I blurred over to him in a flash of movement, and bared my unnatural teeth. "Give me _more_!"

Without a response, he tugged me along and all but pushed me into the main room, where the rest of my siblings awaited, all turning to look at me as I stumbled onto the floor, then jumped back up again with the same impossible speed, evoking gasps from all around. Looking at the bleeding prey who was no longer a girl in my eyes, the pressure built up again once more in my face, and I lunged for her.

Father intercepted me with an unprecedented strength, and threw me backwards, where I crashed into Elijah, who only managed to catch me at the last minute. He wound his arms around me in what once could have been a hug, but was now a barrier to my hunt. I snarled up at him, still trapped inside of the blood frenzy, and he pulled me so close to him I could hardly breathe. " _Enough_ , sister, this is not you," he hissed into my ear, and at the sound of his deep, soothing voice, the pressure in my face receded and I slumped into his embrace.

Kol made his way over to me, and Father was forced to push him away too. I was stunned to see black veins pumping beneath his blood-red eyes. Was _that_ what I looked like? Like . . . like a monster? Then the supernatural features faded and he looked like normal Kol again, but we were _far_ from normal now, whatever we were.

"What have you _done_ to us?" Finn spat at Mother, who had been hiding in the shadows along with the rest of her children. My eyebrows steadily crept up my forehead. That was the most disrespectful thing he had ever said to her. "We are _monsters_!"

"Speak for yourself," Kol sing-songed as he arrived beside me, blood streaked down the corners of his mouth. "We are alive, are we not? And that's what matters -" A strange expression flitted across his features, as if he had come to an abrupt realization. And he had. Oh, how he _had_. "I-I cannot feel my magic." He turned to me, the beginnings of panic forming in his eyes. "Ri?"

I reached deep inside my magical core and found nothing there, like I was grasping at empty air. My heart began to pound, and beads of sweat formed on my forehead. "Nor can I, Ollie. It's - _it's not there_!"

Our non-magical siblings had no words of comfort, since they never had it in the first place. Mother glided over to my favorite brother and I, a sincere apology wafting from her. "I am sorry, Kol, Aria." She placed a soothing hand on my shoulder, but I ducked away, waiting for her explanation. Her hand lowered to her side. "What I turned you into . . . it stripped you of your magic. You cannot be what you are now and also be a witch or warlock. It is against the laws of nature." As a choking, suffocating grip restricted my chest, she turned to the rest of us. "I have created you into this to be better than the wolves. Faster. Stronger. Invulnerable, for the most part, unable to age. Immortal."

 _Stripped you of your magic. Immortal._ Those key phrases echoed again and again in my head as Finn uttered his second disrespectful retort to my mother: "You have doomed us all!"

I was no longer a witch. I had no magic. I could not be killed, and I was destined to live forever. Forever as one aged only ten and three. Forever without my other half.

An incandescent, irrepressible rage sparked a wildfire inside me. Distantly, I could hear Kol shouting at Mother over his forced removal of magic, but I couldn't focus on that. It was horrid enough a thought to live another _day_ without Henrik, another _hour_. And now I had to live an eternity without him.

It was all her fault. My unnatural features building up once more, I dove forward and had my mother pinned against the wall in a fraction of a second. I bared my sharpened teeth and tightened my hand around her throat. "You've locked me in a living _hell_!" I screamed in her face. Her bright brown eyes widened in fear. The urge to use my canines and rip out her throat was damn near irresistible. "I'm forced to live without my magic, and without my _twin_. It's been excruciating enough to consider a normal life without Henrik, and you've taken even _that_ from me. You have sentenced me to an eternity _without_ him! My magic is gone, my other half is dead, what would you like now? Would you like to rip out my heart? Well? Would you? It would be a _mercy_ compared to what you've done to me."

My emotions were all over the place. A second later, my anger dissipated into thin air, replaced with an overwhelming grief and longing. Letting go of her throat, I sank slowly to my knees, and a sob bubbled to my lips. Mother looked down at me in pity as I began to weep, clutching my sides, because if I didn't, I thought I might have fallen apart. Kol blurred to my side. "I-I-I cannot l-live without h-him."

Kol pulled me into him, then stood, lifting me up to cradle against his chest as I cried and cried, wailing the same thing over and over: " _I cannot live without him!_ "

"You have ruined us," Kol snarled at Mother, pressing a kiss onto the top of my head. "We are _leaving_." Ignoring the protests of my siblings, Kol flashed over to the front opening with me, dawn sunlight beginning to peek through the curtains. The second he stepped outside with us, our skin began to sizzle and burn, as if a flame had been lit under the both of us. Screaming in pain and surprise in unison, Kol leapt with me back inside, and I unsteadily stood up on my own, watching in awe as my skin healed and smoothed out before my very eyes.

"You burn in the sun," Mother whispered to herself, as if the realization had only just dawned on her. "I will find a way around that, I promise you. But for now, you all will need to stay inside during the daytime."

It felt as if a hole was ripping its way through my chest and I gasped for air. What was _happening_ to us?!

...

It was a fortnight and a half, where Kol and I spent the majority of our time together while we mourned the loss of our magic and deliberately avoided Mother, before she invented what she called daylight rings, which allowed us to walk into the sun.

It had been a stressful time in the Mikaelson household. For one, I, unwillingly, gained the opportunities to test my new healing abilities. Mostly because at one point, I may or may not have muttered something along the lines of that my mother was a "heinous, callous, irredeemable bitch" and Father heard. Then proceeded to break my jaw, shattering the joints. It healed, after Elijah popped it back into place, good as new.

"Take me to him," I whispered to Kol as we stepped outside in the first time in what felt like forever. The crisp, cool air tickled my skin, rustling my thick locks of hair, which tumbled free down my back. My dress fell to my ankles, hugging the beginnings of my womanly, yet still excruciatingly girlish curves. It was so unfair I wanted to cry. I had only recently bled, hardly a woman at all, and now I was trapped inside of this body for eternity. Always a pathetic little girl.

"Are you sure?" Kol murmured back as we strolled past our household, our hands brushing together, since it seemed we could no longer bear to be apart after we lost our magic. It bonded us even closer, ironically, considering we very well could have been torn apart. "We had no marker for him; we only buried him under shallow earth. It is barely noticeable from any other shrub or patch of dirt."

I brushed off the bitterness in his tone. I knew him better than anybody. He was hurting. "Ollie, please." I clutched his hand and gazed up at him pleadingly, and his expression softened, as it did only for me. "I need to see him."

His brown eyes clouded over in thought, and he nodded. "Very well, Ri." Keeping a tight grip on my hand, he towed me along until we arrived upon an unassuming pile of dirt, only recently dug up, a fresh layer of weeds coating the surface. My brother was in there. The other half of my heart was in there.

I blurred over to the garden Bekah and I maintained, and returned with a lily, Henrik's favorite flower, placing it carefully onto his grave. And, not minding Kol's eyes glued on me, gauging my reaction, I began to sing the song of our people. The song of death. The song of goodbyes.

It was a familiar song for all of us, an ancient Norse hym meant to wish the dead well and send them off with a loving farewell. My high, bell-like voice echoed hauntingly through the air as I lamented my lyrical woes, lifting my voice with trills and lilts when the song required it. A watery smile tugged at the corners of my lips as Kol stood next to me and sang a quiet harmony, his powerful and warm tenor blending perfectly with my clear soprano. I fumbled for his hand and we locked our fingers together, so neither of us would feel alone. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks and dripped onto the dirt below me.

Once our song ended, I lowered to my knees, not caring about the fabric of my dress, and rested my hand onto his grave. With two fingers, I traced a _Valknut_ , consisting of three interlocking triangles. The Norse symbol represented the peaceful transition of life to death.

I kissed the palm of my hand and, for the last time, pressed it down onto the earth. "Rest well, brother. Wherever you are, I hope you find happiness. You are _free_ now. I will love you, always and forever. Goodbye, Henrik."

Gasping, shuddering sobs coursed through my slender, slight form, and Kol pulled me into a hug, which was as much for him as it was for me. As I wept into his chest, staining the coarse fabric with a salty pool of my tears, droplets of moisture landed onto the crown of my head, where Kol silently and stoically cried with me.

...

Overall, once we finally could leave our home and walk into the sunlight, we discovered a whole new set of problems.

We could not enter neighbor's homes unless they invited us in. That itself was not a problem for me, since I hated my neighbors, and the feeling was mutual. Something about me throwing a flaming clump of roses in one of their yards for staring too long at Bekah's breasts or pushing a girl into the river and attempting to drown her for breaking Kol's heart was "offensive" and "disrespectful." They were bloody lightweights, in my opinion. If that girl had died, I'd be doing humanity a favor. Father beat me in the stables for it, but it was worth it. I was very protective of my siblings, however annoying they could be.

Vervain burned us, some forgetful little plant that grew beneath the White Oak Tree. White Oak could kill us, so my family burned it to cinders. I got to light the flame. Oh, how I loved setting things on fire. Most of my siblings viewed it as a "problem" or a "crime," but dear Kol almost always joined me.

The worst part was the bloodlust. Kol was the first one to kill somebody. It was a neighbor, and it was spectacularly gruesome, but I helped him clean up the mess, because I was a fantastic sister and everyone knew it.

And after Kol, it was me. Only one day after we were allowed back outside, I decided to take a pleasant stroll through the woods, no longer harboring the fear of being a young, vulnerable girl on her lonesome at the mercy of violent men. Now, I could decimate them, and I enjoyed the power.

Humming to myself, I skipped over roots and twigs and picked berries, popping them into my mouth and licking the pink juice off my now sticky fingers. Birds chirped all around me, and I whistled with them between my bouts of humming. The only reason I was in the woods in the first place was because I spotted a particularly bright yellow butterfly, and _had_ to follow it. "Come out, come out, little butterfly," I called out into the rustling trees, twirling into a circle so the leaves and branches and sky all became one joyful blur around me. "I don't want to hurt you, I only want to look at you - I _swear_!"

"Well if it isn't little Aria Mikaelson." I spun around on my heel only to see a gang of nine boys, ranging from ages ten and six all the way to Kol's age. My countenance darkened. They used to bully Henrik and I. We never told our siblings because the bullies threatened our lives if we told anyone, but Henrik was dead now anyway, and I had nothing to lose. The leader, Leonid, stepped forward, tall and broad-shouldered at ten and nine, his eyes raking up and down my body. "You're growing up."

How painfully mistaken he was.

"I prefer her sister," a young man hollered from the back, and I narrowed my eyes. He was one of Rebekah's many suitors. Niklaus and Kol had pummeled him into the ground more than once.

Leonid's lips stretched into a sick, predatory grin. "I don't know, Alexei. This one here is a _rare_ beauty." I swallowed hard as the other boys leered at me, too. "And now she has no pathetic twin around to protect her."

"Henrik was not pathetic," I said quietly, feeling an increasingly familiar urge of pure wrath. "You are. If bullying children half your side and years younger than you makes you feel strong, then you are nothing but _weak_ and _empty_."

The most perverted boy, Brutus with yellowed teeth and equally yellow hair, stomped in front of me, eyes smoldering in anger. "Big words for such a little girl. I think we ought to teach you some respect." Several boys behind him, including Leonid and Alexei, whooped in agreement. He clamped his hand down on my shoulder, then lowered it to my fairly ample chest. "Perhaps you aren't such a little girl anymore."

I did not waver my stony gaze from his, fire and ice burning where he touched me without my permission. I shuddered in disgust. "Remove your hand."

The boys and men guffawed at the quiet authority beneath the demand, and one shouted, "Someone hold her down, and I'll cut open her dress with my hunting knife! That'll teach her some respect. You can have the first go at her, Brutus."

Brutus, ignoring them, cupped one of my breasts, squeezing until it hurt. "Remove my hand . . . or what?" he responded to my question.

The reign on my temper and self-control broke from the building pressure. "Or _this._ " I reached forward to hold his arm still, pulled his hand off my chest, and ripped it from his arm in one swift movement, the sounds of popping tendons and snapping bones echoing through the air. The appendage soared into the trees as blood and pus spurted from the gaping wound, splattering crimson droplets onto the front of my dress. I pouted. "This was my favorite dress." He dropped to his knees, and gawked at the broken bone protruding from where his hand was mere seconds before. Smirking maliciously, I held out my own mocking hand as if to help him up. "Need a hand?"

Once the agony caught up to him, his scream was one of the most gut-wrenching, horrifying sounds I'd ever heard. It was like music to my sensitive ears. The other boys looked at me with a range of expressions between disgust, terror, and loathing. It made me smile. "She's a demon!" Brutus wailed as he held his gory stump to his chest. That made me smile wider.

Alexei was the first one who tried to run. He never took too much interest in bothering Henrik and I, but he was too obsessed with Bekah for my liking, so I had no qualms about blurring over to him and sinking my fangs into his neck. His warm, salty waterfall of blood gushed down my throat, and it tasted like heaven. If anything, his shouts of pain were a choir of angels as I guzzled on nectar of the gods. The thick, red liquid trickled down my chin as I sloppily slurped from the jagged wound I created. His heart stopped and he grew limp inside of my unbreakable grip, and I shoved his drained corpse lazily to the side. The rest of the boys must have decided that running was not an option. "Who's next?"

I gave into the dark fury that had been bubbling beneath the surface of my skin since Henrik's death, blasting straight past any moral code I once had and stomping it to dust. Brutus called me a demon. He was right. I was _born_ for this.

Any and all rational thoughts exited my mind as I continued my vicious massacre, every death becoming more and more creative. One boy, David, I decapitated with one sharp blow, launching his head up into the trees for extra amusement. For another boy, I tore out his esophagus with my teeth, and then spat it in his face as he suffocated on his own blood. I tore off Brutus' _other_ hand and stuffed it down his throat, where he proceeded to hilariously choke and die.

I was a tornado of snarls, teeth, and blood. Hearts flew majestically through the air along with limbs and bones, and I hopped and skipped over mangled carcasses as if it were all a game.

For me, perhaps it was.

I saved Leonid for last, as I viewed him as the most aggressive of the perpetrators, and I wanted him to watch his friends meet their gruesome ends. Now, I licked blood off my fingers like I'd licked berry juice not ten minutes before. Leonid was soaked in a puddle of his own vomit and urine; he'd never been so afraid in his life, I reasoned, since he was so used to inspiring fear in _others._ "Now, now, now," I mused, kicking a stray arm out of my way, "what shall I do with you?"

"P-P-Please, no," he gasped. I could hear his rapid, thudding heartbeat as it nearly pounded out of chest. "You don't w-want to do this."

I giggled at his ignorance. "Oh, poor boy. Isn't it obvious by now that I _do_ want to do this?" I gestured widely to the magnificent scene of carnage around me. "But your death must be _special._ " Contemplating on how I should kill him, I tapped my blood-stained finger to my equally blood-stained chin until I arrived upon a brilliant idea. "Oh, I know, I know!"

He sucked in a ragged breath as I zoomed over to him, kneeling next to him and brushing his sweat-matted brown hair out of his face. "You hurt Henrik the most out of everyone, and I cannot forgive that. You spat atrocities at him, and you did not care. So," I said with a wicked, evil smile, "you obviously do not need your tongue."

A bizarre, muted wail exited his throat he could no longer emote once I tossed the slobbery organ to the side. "What next? Oh, yes! With your fingers, you ripped out locks of Henrik's hair and pieces of his tunic, and you did not care. Thus, you do not need your fingers."

The cycle repeated with a new body part every time until Leonid hardly looked human anymore. After his fingers were his hands, then his arms, then his feet, his legs, clumps of his hair, and his lips that he used to kiss me forcefully when I was only ten. His eyes and ears were left, which I saved for last. He was a shivering, sobbing mess of a creature. "You watched tears fall down my twin's cheeks, watched as you and your friends punched him and kicked him until he bled. You watched, and you did not care. You do not need your eyes."

I clawed the pretty, sky-blue orbs from their sockets and pushed them into his mouth for safe keeping. "Lastly, you listened to Henrik cry for mercy, mercy, _mercy,_ but you did not care. I would take your ears, but I want you to hear me until the very end. Goodbye, Leonid. Rest in peace." I ripped his heart from his chest, and allowed it to roll from my fingers to the dirt with a dull _thud._

An abrupt thought coming to mind, I shuffled over to a large, flat stone with cracks filled with moss and weeds. On the surface, I used my bloodied fingers to draw another _Valknut,_ to ease the way from life to death, from death to the afterlife. For Henrik, then, I painted his initials below the symbol.

 _H.M._

"You are a _monster._ " I turned around only to see my eldest brother looking at me with utter revulsion and contempt. How long had he been standing there? "You ripped them apart. Father was right. It should have been you, not Henrik. He wouldn't do this. You would be better off _dead._ "

I had no control over my emotions now, ever since I was turned into a demon. Tears flooded to my eyes, and Finn scoffed. " _Now_ you can feel? You're pathetic, sister."

His neck snapped at an unnatural angle, and Kol stepped over his lanky, temporarily deceased form. "Enough of that rubbish." His piercing brown eyes appraised me, and my bloody surroundings. I blinked my tears away with difficulty. "Huh." He seemed unbothered enough. "Did you leave any alive for me?"

Dry, painful sobs lurched my chest to and fro. "Finn was right. I am a _monster_ , and it would be better off if I was dead." Despite my best efforts, a single tear rolled down my cheek. Kol brushed it away tenderly with his thumb. "I was so -" I struggled for words, "- so _angry._ They used to bully Henrik and I, and they wanted to rape me. I . . . I do not regret it."

He stomped on and crushed Alexei's skull into splinters. "Good," he snarled. "If I could kill them all over again, I _would_." His features lightened then, and a genuine smile touched his lips. "But it appears you've handled the situation. Although you've made quite a mess, you scrawny little imbecile."

I picked up a discarded arm, and slapped him in the face with it, whipping his head to the side. He stared at me, and I stared back. With a perfectly straight face, he deadpanned, "Quite an arm you have on you."

I blinked once, twice, then we both burst into laughter. The affinity for terrible, dark-humored puns was sadly shared between us. Perhaps it was in our blood. "Dance with me, Ollie," I sang, tossing my arms up into the air and embracing the cool breeze filtering between the leaves. Dancing and performing magic had always been my favorite activities, and now, all I could do was dance.

Rolling his eyes playfully, he accepted one of my soon extended hands, and lead me into something of a waltz. "You did quite a number on that one," he said as I leaned my head against his chest, nodding to what was left of Leonid. "Allow me to offer my admiration for your handiwork."

"Your admiration is noted and appreciated."

...

Finn's neck healed, and evidently, he had nothing to say to either of us, because he darted away.

Nobody disturbed us again. If Finn told the rest of my family, then they didn't bother come searching for me. Perhaps they hated me now, too. But it did not matter. I had Kol, and Kol had me.

Kol and I danced together, gliding and leaping and laughing until darkness arose above the horizon and stars blanketed across the inky black sky. "Do you believe Henrik is up there?" I murmured from where we sat, slumped against a willow tree. "Do you believe he is watching us?"

Kol tilted his head up, and moonlight reflected off of his face, the tints and shadows of his tanned skin becoming more pronounced. "I hope he is not. He would not want to see us like this." I lowered my eyes to the ground, ashamed. He nudged my chin up with his knuckles, far gentler with me than I'd ever seen him with anybody else. A soft, sweet smile greeted me. "But I believe he is, and I knew Henrik almost as well as you did, and I know he will forgive us. Love had no conditions for him."

I sniffled, leaning my head on Kol's taut, muscular shoulder, reveling in his older brotherly presence. "I miss him. It hurts so much, Ollie. Every day is a miracle I do not drop dead from the grief, but even that would be a gods-damned relief. I could see him again. After he died, that was my only comfort, that one day, I could see him again and I would have my other half back. That we would be together again forever in the afterlife. But Mother has made me immortal. I will never see him again."

My eyes glimmered with unshed tears, and the gaping hole in my chest widened. It was a struggle to breathe at the thought that I would never see my dear Henrik again. "D-Do you believe it will get better? That's what everybody says."

A muscle in his jaw tensed as he thought it over. "No, I don't," he replied finally, and I sighed in agreement. There would be no getting over his death, and I would not want to. If I ever did, then that would be the day I knew I was truly lost. "But you have me. And I have you. If that offers any sort of solace, in the grand scheme of things. I will stay by your side for the rest of eternity, Ri. Always and forever."

He clutched at the blood-stained fabric of my dress as if he was afraid I would disappear beneath his very fingers. With every word of his, the hole in my chest stitched together, if only a sliver at a time. I would be broken for the rest of my days, but I still had Kol. We would be broken together. "I will never leave you, Ollie. I promise you that. Always and forever, we stay together."

Kol nodded fervently. "Always and forever."

And so we lay, shoulder to shoulder, beneath that old willow tree, content with the vow that would never waver or break, because we would not let it. As I looked into the stars, I imagined Henrik's face smiling down at us, from wherever he was. A whisper of a touch grazed over my hand, and I knew it was him.

So, pushing my grief and turmoil aside, I smiled back with everything I had.

And in the distance, in a whisper of a breeze, I could have _sworn_ I heard his voice drift down from the heavens and spiral into my ears like a melody and a loving caress all at once. " _Always and forever, twin sister_."

 **A/N: Writing this chapter made my heart hurt. I lost my father three years ago, so I was reaching deep when trying to express her grief and sorrow. What'd you guys think about it? Sound off in the comments, I _loooooove_ feedback! :D Next chapter will begin at Esther's death, and then start again a year later, in Southern France, where Lucien, Aurora, and Tristian will be introduced. Aaaaaand we will get to meet her true love! See you then! :D**


	4. A New Dawn, a New Day

**A/N: Hellooooo my wonderful readers! My AP tests are over, and I no longer feel like throwing myself off a bridge! :D Your response to this story has been nothing short of spectacular, and from the bottom of my heart, I thank you all.**

 **This chapter begins the introduction of the Lucien/Tristian/Aurora storyline, with my own OC, the youngest de Martel sibling. *Hint*Hint* Aria will meet her true love in this chapter . . . gee, I wonder who that is? Also, you'll get the first taste of how she truly is after Henrik's death without the immediate loss looming over her, and it isn't pretty.**

 **Also, I've decided to include all siblings in the "Always and Forever" vow, since it only makes sense with Aria's closeness to Kol. This will be strained over the years, of course, but it's always bothered me that it only applied to Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah. In this story, all sibling relationships will be explored.**

 **Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and major depression.**

 **Without much further ado, please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :)**

 **Chapter 4: A New Dawn, a New Day**

Mother was dead. Once Niklaus killed for the first time, the truth was unveiled, where the secret of Mother's affair came alive. Niklaus was a hybrid; a werewolf, like those disgusting creatures that murdered my brother, and whatever we were now. At least until Mother bound him with a spell, using the blood of the slip of a girl Elijah and Niklaus both fancied, Tatia Petrova.

In my opinion, Tatia was a conniving, manipulative little whore who formed a rift between my brothers, and I despised her for it, but the two of them seemed to care enough about her, so I didn't voice my negative opinions. Well, to _them_. Kol and Bekah were fair game.

None of it mattered now, because Father _killed_ Mother, and murdered Nik's real father. He didn't know we were here, not yet. Hopefully, we would be gone by the time he arrived. The gods knew I wouldn't spend more than a second of time with him, past what was necessary.

Mother was _dead_. One moment she was alive, and Kol and I were having our own version of fun with our neighbors, and then abruptly, she was dead. I couldn't take any more loss. _No more_.

My siblings and I stood over a shallow grave that we had dug for her, next to Henrik. Rebekah sobbed into Nik's shoulder, who was misty-eyed himself. Rebekah always had the cherished mother-daughter bond with her that Mother and I also had (to an extent, I was never as close with her as Bekah was), at least before she damned me to an eternity without Henrik and without magic.

So, I looked down at the grave with a mixture of love, grief, and hatred. After everything she cursed me to, she was still my mother, and I could not help but cry along with Bekah.

Finn was most distraught, forever the golden son in his dead mother's eyes. Elijah was stoic as ever, masking his true feelings, and Kol acted as if he were unbothered by the entire debacle, although I saw through his disguise. He missed his mother as much as we all did.

"Let's make a vow. After everything we've lost, we must stay together, always and forever," Bekah announced once she wiped her tears away. Kol and I exchanged a conspiratorial glance. Little did she know that we had already made a similar vow not a fortnight before.

But I also fiercely loved the lot of them, even Finn, sometimes. "I agree," Elijah declared, which was hardly a surprise. "We must stay together as a family, always and forever. Family above _all._ "

Rebekah took a hand from Nik and Elijah, and Nik held out his hand to me, inviting me into the vow. As much as I adored Kol, I also shared a unique connection with Nik that spawned from our experiences of abuse from our father. Or, _my_ father, rather.

Kol willingly grasped onto my hand, but made a bit of a face when he had to reach for Finn's. I stomped on his foot, and he kicked me in the shin in return. Finn, no matter how annoying, dull, and self-righteous, was still our eldest brother. Elijah grabbed Finn's other hand, and the circle was complete. "Always and forever," we murmured in unison.

Now, that was a vow all of us bent and stretched to our liking over the centuries. Kol and I by running off on our own constantly, Nik by daggering _all of us_ (most notably Finn for nine hundred years), Elijah by attempting to murder Nik a thousand years later, and Bekah . . . There was the New Orleans incident, but other than that, she was the most loyal of all of us.

Even with Mother and Henrik gone, I knew we could prevail. Little did I know we would _thrive_.

 **Southern France, 1002 A.D.**

The young woman I was guzzling blood from grew limp in my arms after a disappointingly short amount of time, and I shoved her off of me, immediately distracted by something bright and beautiful. The necklace of the girl Bekah had drained. I snatched it when nobody was looking, and stowed it away in one of my dress pockets.

I giggled at Elijah's aghast expression at Kol's gluttony. My dear brothers had never quite seen eye to eye. "Kol, are you quite done?"

"Ah," Kol moaned as his victim collapsed to the ground. "Oh, bother, Elijah! Is all of this truly necessary?" Kol had made it no secret he wanted to take me and leave. I wanted to stay, for the time being, so he respected my wishes.

As they continued to have a boring conversation I could not physically care less about, I skipped over to a patch of wildflowers growing on the side of the dirt road, and plopped down onto my bottom next to them. Trailing my fingers over the petals of every color imaginable, I smiled and cooed over them. "Pretty, pretty, pretty . . ."

I plucked myself a lovely bouquet, and clutched them close to my chest, as if to shelter them. I hummed to myself as I stuck two yellow flowers behind each of my ears, and snuck over to the rest of my family. Bekah, breaking her attention free of the argument occurring before us, smiled indulgently as I brushed her hair aside and put in a bright purple flower. "Thank you, sweet sister. It's beautiful."

"You're very welcome, Bekah! But not as beautiful as you, I daresay," I chirped and she beamed wider. Then, I waited for Niklaus to shout something about a vow to Kol (I didn't care enough to listen) before placing the prettiest orange one into his luscious locks. Any normal person would have stared at me as if I'd grown a second head, but by now, he was used to my antics and only punished me with a mild eyeroll. But he kept the flower in his hair, for my sake. "Here you go. It looks very handsome on you."

His hard expression faded and he suppressed an obvious grin. "Thank you, baby sister. What say you on our future together?"

I blinked at him, fluttering my eyelashes innocently. "I was not paying a single second of attention, Nikky." He frowned at me, his brow creasing. "Flowers are much more important than petty family quarrels. You need to sort out your priorities."

"You look very pretty, Nik," Kol chortled.

He smirked. "I know I do."

Kol then backed up once I approached him with a blue flower. "Oh no, Ri, I appreciate the gesture, but -"

I stuck my bottom lip out into a glorious pout that only youngest siblings could master. He grumbled incessantly as I wove the flower between his shoulder-length brown hair, before dancing over to Finn.

"Before Ri here side-tracked me," I flashed him a cheeky grin at the sound of my name, "I was telling you, Nik, that your _vows_ haunt me more than Father himself! At least he can't take us all."

Finn was the next to weigh in. "Perhaps Kol is right - Aria, what on earth are you doing?" He looked back at me incredulously as, since I could not reach the top of his head because he was not bending for me like Kol, I began to climb up his back like a tree.

"I'm braiding it into your hair, silly bear. Hold still, you'll _ruin_ all my hard work!" He stood still as a stone, only to avoid the childish tantrum of a lifetime.

"Ri, you're greatly improving his appearance, I commend you, as it's a difficult feat." I chuckled under my breath at Kol's remark. "And _thank you_ , Finn, I've always said eldest is most intelligent -"

"Stop talking!" Finn's sudden reproach startled me enough that I nearly tipped right off his back. "I take no joy in our assent, but I do wish to sleep in a bed, to bathe in a bath, to feed of proper food - _Aria, pull at my hair one more time and I will throw you to the real bears_!"

I smacked him on the back of his head before sliding off him. "That was unkind, and I resent that." A hint of trepidation peaked through Elijah's nearly impeccable mask as I hunted him down next.

Elijah stated, as he attempted to ignore me, "No, brother, Niklaus is right. We made a vow. Family above all. Always . . . forever."

I nodded solemnly in response. "You could not be more right if you tried, brother." He gazed down at me warily. "Family above all, always and forever. Now I demand you bend down so I can put this flower in your hair, and be quick about it. I will _not_ wait here all day."

Once I finished dolling up a reluctant Elijah up, who looked rather marvelous with the red flower contrasting against his black hair, Kol asked us all, "Who's ready for a second course?"

"Me!" I shouted at the same time as Finn spat, "You're all filthy gluttons." Not paying any mind to Finn, I went onto an extensive search to see if there was any living person and warm blood left.

" _Ri_ has the right idea, Finn," Kol sneered right back. "You remain ever the dullard."

After gathering more flowers, I decided to place them into our victims' hair as well. Elijah looked at me as if announced I was pregnant and planning to marry the next man I saw on the road only to have more love children with him. "What? Just because we killed them doesn't mean they can't look pretty. Honestly, Elijah, it's as if Mother dropped you on your head as a baby."

Then, when nobody was looking, I painted a bloody _Valknut_ on the side of the wagon. "Rest in peace," I whispered.

As Elijah and Rebekah began to bicker over clothes and nobility and the like, a faint heartbeat caught my curious attention. More food for me! I peeked into the wagon, and saw a rather terrified brown-haired young man under a blanket. Baring my teeth into what I perceived as a friendly smile, I pressed my finger to my lips. _Quiet, stranger, you'll ruin my fun!_

He cowered away from me as I reached down to pet his hair like he was a cute little bunny rabbit, and I sulked. "Fine, I'll let Kol have you," I mumbled, crossing my arms petulantly. "I would've been more gentle." And to think I was going to give him a flower. The nerve!

"Aria, what in the world are you doing?" Elijah called over to me, and his eyes widened a fraction once he heard what I had. "Someone's in there?"

The man leaped straight out of the wagon, only for Bekah, Kol, and I to block his way with identical smirks. "Well, aren't you a handsome one?" I thought so too, but I was not desperate enough to say it aloud. He was our food, _not_ a friend.

"Looks like dessert to me," Kol chimed in, and I chuckled as my siblings slowly closed in on our prey.

"Perhaps an appetizer," I agreed, then added as an afterthought, "I do like his hair, though. It would make a nice centerpiece. If we had a table. And plates. And human food. And anything but the centerpiece . . ."

The man cried, "No! Wait, wait, wait! I can help you!" The fervor behind his defense made me roll my eyes, and Bekah nudged me in the side, glaring down at me. Oh _please_ , she wanted the walking sack of blood to live so she could toy with him. I scoffed and elbowed her back. We were halfway into a full-blown sisterly catfight before Elijah sent us such a powerfully authoritative look that we quieted down and stilled. Bored, I wandered back over to my flower bed.

Yes, I was a brave enough girl, but one did not simply cross Elijah and come out unscathed from his lectures. Not to mention the occasional hidings he inflicted on us in our human years when we'd committed some misdemeanor he was not willing to forgive but we wanted to avoid Father. I could never decide was what more painful. The embarrassment and sharp sting of the childish punishment, or the disappointment that would seep through him and into me.

Rebekah and I were considerably younger than Elijah, eight years then ten and three years respectively, so he still exerted some sort of paternal control over us. He no longer held much of a physical threat to Nik or Kol, but Bekah and I just _had_ to be the youngest and weakest.

I needed him in my life, and to some extent, I'd always viewed him as more of a father than Mikael himself, and that would never quite change. Elijah once told me, many years later, that he viewed me as a mixture between a little sister and a daughter. Always and forever. That was obvious to everyone in our family, and went unspoken, but it was still a nice confirmation.

It was better than Nik, who preferred to parent us by stabbing us in the chest and instead of sending us to our rooms, stowed us away in coffins.

Oh, bother, the man was talking and I had no clue of what he spoke of since I was so lost in my thoughts and my home of flowers. If you'd _seen_ those wildflowers, then you'd understand.

Elijah was ranting about something how we couldn't leave him alive, and he had a serious point, but Rebekah still opposed him. Nik suggested we put it to a vote, and only then did I start paying attention again. "All those in favor of letting him live?"

Much to _nobody_ 's surprise, Bekah raised her hand, along with Finn. Finn? Probably about some aching moral compass, I assumed. Nik glanced over at me, and when I only shrugged, he released a slight snort.

Kol then countered, "Those inclined to gut him?" Kol obviously raised his hand, along with Elijah, who looked at everyone else as if we'd all gone horrifically insane. Both brothers stared at me as if expecting me to join them, but both rolled their eyes once I shrugged again. Kol, thankfully, brushed it off, but Elijah did not seem too inclined to.

"I don't know what you expect me to _say_ , 'Lijah!" I whined, going over to lean against Kol's tall figure, and he might as well have been a pillar of stone, since he didn't budge in the slightest. "I wasn't listening, I don't care, that man means less than nothing to me, and I cannot expend the energy and thought to choose whether he lives or dies."

The strange man's shoulders slumped. Kol loosed a roar of abrupt laughter, and shoved me away from him, where Elijah glowered at me so acutely I was surprised I did not spontaneously combust. "Aria, I've about _had_ it with you lately -"

I crossed my arms. "'Lijaaaaah, you're being mean."

His eyebrows knit together angrily, since I was so intent on making a scene. "No, I'm not being me-"

"Yes, you are!"

He sighed; a long, deep, and mournful sound. "I do not intend to act unkindly toward you, sister, but I'm losing my patience with you -"

" _Mean_!" I interrupted him sharply, only for the sake of garnering a negative reaction. And oh, did I get one. I zoomed behind Finn to use him as an invulnerable shield, but he stepped away because he apparently was fed up with me as well, so Elijah grabbed me by the bicep and did not release his iron-clad grip.

"Do not continue to act disrespectful toward me, or I will ensure you do not," he growled into my ear, kneeling down to my height, and a light blush crept to my cheeks; he did not treat our _other_ siblings so strictly. He was embarrassing me in front of our food. I was one of the most dangerous creatures on the planet, and still had to answer to my big brother. Bekah flashed me a sympathetic smile, and I scowled at her in response. Elijah's hold on me tightened and I hissed at the building pain.

"You two figure that out," Kol cut in, smirking wider as I stuck my tongue out at him. "Well, Nik, since Ri won't vote, what shall it be . . . ?"

Long story short, Niklaus found sympathy in his lovely red heart, and spared our food's life. After explaining to me that we were to commit subterfuge, we stole our victims' clothes, which seemed especially malevolent, but I supposed I didn't have a leg to stand on.

My girl's dress was a deep emerald that flared slightly at the waist and had a healthy, revealing bodice that all four of my brothers managed to complain about in separate occasions. Thankfully, it covered my brand well enough. A coiled, golden waistband served as a belt around my slim waist, and Bekah braided back my long hair, weaving in yellow and white flowers upon my non-negotiable request. I gave her the necklace I'd stolen from her victim earlier, because it would look prettier on her, since it matched her jeweled eyes.

Now, _Elijah_ decided to be a son of a bitch because he refused to "trust me to behave" among the nobles, so I had to stay by his side "at all times." So, on the entire journey in our stolen wagon to the castle (or whatever the hell it was), we bickered furiously. He claimed I was still an impulsive child, which was true, considering I was only ten and four, and that I couldn't control my fanciful whims and desires. I had no official rebuttal, since he was right, but I spoke out of my arse anyway.

"You underestimate me!" I all but yelled at my elder brother, the castle approaching in the foggy distance. "I am _more_ than capable of mingling among the rich and conceited, and I have enough maturity - oooooooooh, _dandelions_!"

Perhaps I _may_ have strengthened his argument, because by leaping from the wagon and frolicking over to the clump of delightful plants, I spooked the horses. The horses neighed, clearly terrified, and reared up, damn near throwing the wagon aside. Rebekah screamed, Nik shouted, Kol complained, Elijah bellowed my name - all as I held the wad of dandelions to my chest, cringing ferociously.

The man, whom I learned was named Lucien, calmed the horses and I completed the walk of shame back to the wagon, avoiding the collective dirty looks from my siblings. Elijah's countenance was as hard as stone. Tentatively, I offered him a dandelion. "Would you like to make a wish, big brother?"

Finn ripped the dandelions from my hands and threw them out the wooden window. "You're a damned menace!" he bellowed in my face, saliva raining all over my face. I recoiled in shock; I'd almost forgotten he was there. He was the only one willing to scold me as harshly as he desired; even Elijah knew where to draw boundaries, keeping my so-called sensitivity in mind. "Elijah is right, sister. You cannot be trusted around a horde of nobility when you haven't a smidge of self-control! You're nothing but a disrespectful, selfish, uncontrollable little brat. I thought you a little beast _before_ Henrik's death, but now I must say, I miss your former self, where you at the very least had a _sliver_ of sanity, compared to you now, with _none_. You are unhinged, disturbed, and _deranged_ , baby sister. Do us all a favor, and keep your flowers and attitude to yourself."

Silence. Only an icy, tense, charged silence followed after Finn's brutal chastisement. A lump formed in my throat. I felt every pair of eyes stuck on me as I stared hard down at my folded hands, blinking back a sheen of hot moisture. Much to my utter dismay and chagrin, a few tears escaped my defenses and rolled down my cheeks. Finn sighed sharply in something akin to regret.

I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, and hated myself further as my body racked with silent sobs. Salty tears dripped down onto my hands, and my vision blurred, everything swirling around me. Elijah, who'd been so frustrated with me not minutes before, lay his much larger hand upon mine in a gesture of comfort. "That is quite enough, Finn," he said coldly. As if he could read my mind, he snaked an arm around my trembling shoulders, and drew me into him, allowing me to bury my face into the crook under his neck. His slow heartbeat soothed me. _Lub-lub . . . lub-lub . . . lub-lub._ "You _know_ she hasn't been the same since Henrik's death," he hissed, as if I couldn't hear him perfectly.

That was almost worse.

"Burn in hell, _brother_ ," Kol spat at Finn. "Boo hoo, she likes to pick flowers and dandelions, and likes to follow butterflies and birds all over the damn place. She's fine the way she is, so get _over_ yourself. She's far more endearing than _you'll_ ever be."

"Don't pretend we haven't all been thinking it," Finn snapped in response, but he sounded considerably more subdued than before, as if he'd seen the error of his ways - at least a little bit.

"I have not," Nik spoke up for the first time, something of a smile in his voice. "I, for one, find it charming. Well, for the most part. She's our baby sister, she's _meant_ to be annoying and infuriating. That's her job, is it not? Bekah, wouldn't you agree? It's a shared occupation."

"Oh hush, brother," she replied, but I could hear her smile, too. "I agree with Nik - _for the most part_. I happen to be fond of her love for flowers and butterflies and other bright and beautiful things. Unlike you overly masculine lot, _I'm_ still wearing the flower she gave me. Isn't that right, sweet sister?"

Hesitantly, I removed my head from the safety of Elijah's embrace, and gave her a watery smile once I noticed the purple flower still residing comfortably in her soft blonde hair. ". . . Thank you, Bekah."

Elijah pulled a handkerchief from his pocket that was not his, and although there were a few drops of blood on it, he used it to scrub my face clean as if I were incapable of doing it myself. Like he was my own personal mother hen. Finn snorted, and there was a flurry of movement, where Kol somehow managed to land a punch on him from the other side of the wagon.

It took all too long for us to arrive at the gala, and I blurred out of the wagon in the blink of an eye, feeling suffocated by the lot of them. My heart sank as Elijah made long and purposeful steps toward me, clearly intent on keeping an eye on me all night, but Rebekah beat him to it. She locked arms with me, and brushed a soft hand against my cheek, smiling down at me. I smiled back gratefully.

"Us girls must stick together," she told Elijah as an explanation, and he must've trusted her a good deal more than he did me, because he accepted it without too much of a fuss. "You're welcome, Ari," she whispered mischievously once he walked off to Nik's side.

"I _am_ bloody thankful," I murmured back, and we giggled together, igniting confusion in all of our brothers. Sisterhood was a magical thing. "You're a diamond among mountains of dirt and shit."

"Compliment me like that, and I will consider protecting you from our brothers' overprotective wraths more often," she said with a coy wink.

I tugged on a strand of her yellow hair, and she slapped my hand away, all in good humor. "You have yourself a deal."

The two of us trailed far behind our brothers and Lucien as we approached the gala with considerable trepidation. "Finn is hardly overprotective of me," I mumbled, referring to her previous comment. "He hates me."

She pursed her lips and sighed. "I do not believe that to be true. He loves you in his own way, but he simply does not understand you. He is ten and six years older than you; he was on the cusp of manhood when you were but a babe. You do not have much in common, but he cares about you far more than he will ever admit, despite his disapproval of your childish and murderous tendencies." I smirked at the last bit and she chuckled, nudging me in the side.

"Well, _you_ are Finn's favorite sibling," I pointed out, and even Rebekah had to acquiesce to that. "Perhaps it is not saying much, considering he dislikes us all to an extent, but it is the truth. You are the favorite of Finn, Elijah, and Niklaus - you walking ray of insufferable sunshine."

Bekah rolled her wide, ocean-blue eyes. "Oh, please. You are _Kol's_ favorite by far," there was no arguing that, as he was my favorite as well, "and perhaps I am closer to Nik, but he has a very special place in his heart for you, as you've shared similar experiences with Father. And it may be that I am Elijah's favorite _sibling,_ perhaps, but that is only because he sees you as equal parts his child. That's why he is stricter with you than with any of us."

"How positively spectacular."

"You have to listen to me," she lifted her chin up all haughty-like and poised, "because I'm your big sister, and we must stick together. We ought to spend more time together, we're an outstanding duo."

I arched an eyebrow in her direction. "I've seen you every day for fourteen years."

"Oh hush, you arse." I snorted; we made quite a ladylike pair, didn't we? " _Actually_ spend time together. Now that we have a temporary home again, especially."

I nodded in agreement, half to appease her but mostly because I missed the fun times we shared together. "I would like that, Lady Rebekah."

"Splendid, Lady Aria. Now, let us join the others before they leave us in the dust."

"Damn. I was hoping for that."

Still, we hurried to our brothers, who all snuck the two of us strange looks. Obviously, they'd all been eavesdropping at some point in the conversation or another. For the sole purpose of making her uncomfortable, I said loudly enough for the human to hear, "So, Bekah, do you plan on seducing Lucien now or after we mingle among nobles? You can _finally_ fall in love and disappear into the sunset, just like you've always wanted to."

As her mouth dropped open in outrage, I swallowed my laughter with much difficulty. Kol and Niklaus did not have the same self-restraint; the former guffawed openly and without reservation, and the latter quieted only after receiving a look promising painful death from both Elijah and Rebekah. Blood rushed to Lucien's poor, innocent face.

"You are such a _liar_ ," Rebekah accused me, the most hilarious petulant expression dancing across her delicate features. "And a pessimist!"

"Ah, but if I'm a liar, then I have the excuse of being _deranged_ , as Finn so aptly put it. _You_ are simply an opportunist," I retorted without missing a single beat. "You only wanted to keep Kol's dessert and my centerpiece over there because he has a pretty face, and we _allllll_ know how much you like pretty faces. . . ."

Now, I was not necessarily implying that Bekah was something of a whore. She wasn't - well, at least not at the _time_. It would take a good few years for her to embrace her rampant and ceaseless lust for men. "Stop it!" she all but yelled at me, her cheeks turning as red as Lucien's. "I have not been with any man!"

I shrugged, even though I knew that to be the unaltered truth. "Oh, I don't know, Beks. You've always had a dalliance of sorts with Alexei. A fleeting, summer love, if you will."

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "First of all, that's a bald-faced _lie,_ since I've always hated him, and secondly, you _killed_ him!"

It was so _easy_ to needle her. Kol and I had always been the best at it, since Elijah was too noble and loving, and Nik too indulgent. "I only killed him because of how he looked at you like a piece of bloody meat! He was uncouth with you, Bekah, and I will not allow such a vile creature to court my sister and live to tell the tale! Also, it was Kol who stomped on his skull and crushed it, not me."

As Lucien turned positively green and sickly, Kol chuckled, " _After_ you sucked him dry, you little brat!" Elijah, at this point, was pinching the bridge of his nose and Finn was glaring down at us with disgust from his lofty throne.

I accepted that one, since he was already dead when Kol mutilated his corpse, and Rebekah shook her head at me disapprovingly. "You have no shame, sister."

I deliberately flashed her my brightest, most winning smile. "Shame is for the weak and the insecure, of which I am neither."

Niklaus, Kol, and I exchanged a proud look that foretold the violence and fear we would inflict upon the world, the infamous "Terror Triad." It would be the three of us who would bring true infamy to the Mikaelson name.

…

The gala itself was beyond impressive. I'd never seen such fancy silks or fineries or arrogant snobs in one enclosed area. Kol and I were doubtlessly planning to eat one or two or fifty later on.

I tuned out Lucien's advice and bickering of my siblings as a familiar hurt shot through my heart. Here we were, donned in the grandest clothes we'd ever worn, playing our hand at being nobles. While we lied and deceived our way into aristocracy, Henrik rotted under the ground. If I could take his place, I would. He deserved glory and love and life more than I ever did. . . .

I loosed a bitter laugh. Mikael and Finn were right. The wrong twin survived. My hands began to tremble. Why was I here? Why wasn't I dead too? My siblings would have been happier if it were Henrik walking and talking in my stead. Perhaps they secretly wished that was the case. Perhaps Niklaus brought the wrong twin with him to see the wolves that night.

My stomach churned and my heart raced, and I realized with no small amount of fear that one of my "episodes" was well on its way, as my siblings learned to call them. I bit my bottom lip so hard the salty tang of blood drizzled into my mouth.

I jumped when Count de Martel began to speak. "Lucien, you were sent to fetch the Count de Guise."

I glared hard at the ground. _We killed him, Your Grace. But we so dearly hope you will accept his murderers into your court in his stead. What's the difference?_

Shivers coursed through my entire body, and I desperately raked my eyes over my siblings for help, but all of them were looking upon the Count de Martel.

Lucien lied on the spot. "Indisposed, Your Grace. Gout. May I present his children? The Lords Finn, Niklaus, Elijah, and Kol. Also, the lovely Ladies Rebekah and Aria."

"And Henrik," a voice echoed through the court, and my breath caught in my throat as my twin strolled up with an easy, wolfish grin. Invisible hands gripped my heart and nearly squeezed the life out of it. "Do not leave me out." He draped an arm around Bekah's shoulder, but she did not budge an inch nor even glance in his direction. When he realized I was staring at him with dangling jaw, he winked. "Enjoying the view, sweet sister?"

My mouth went suddenly dry and my mind swirled with delirium. "Henrik, you're here . . ."

 _Now_ my siblings remembered my existence, and their expressions ranged from confusion to concern and to a building horror that I would ruin this for everyone. But I had no eyes for them. Henrik crossed the short distance between us, his dark eyes twinkling with mirth. "I've missed you so much, Ri. It's lonely where I am."

Tears welled up in my eyes and, hesitantly, I reached out a hand to cup his cheek. It did not occur to me that I was groping thin air. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I murmured, watching his expression shift into something vengeful.

He slapped my hand away and tears rolled down my cheeks in response. "You should be, sister," he said icily. "While you and our siblings are off killing people and starting a grand new life, my body is decomposing. Maggots have eaten out my eyes, worms wiggle inside my ears, my skin is full of holes and my lungs full of dirt. Mother rots beside me. I hope you're happy, Ri. I never have the chance to be happy again."

I released a muted, strangled shriek of horror and grief, and Henrik disappeared right before my very eyes. Rebekah had just finished introducing herself, and all eyes were glued upon to me. Elijah's mouth opened and closed as he undoubtedly searched for an explanation for my bizarre behavior. A sob strained my chest against my tight bodice, and I fled like hell.

"Ri, wait!" Kol shouted after me, but as tears streamed down my face, I only ran and ran and ran. I was only thankful my subconscious managed to maintain my human speed.

"Kol, _stay here._ I'm so sorry, Your Grace," my ears picked up Elijah's faint apology, "our youngest sister is not well. We try to take care of her the best we can, but she still has her . . . episodes."

"She is insane, Your Grace," Finn added calmly, the first time he said anything to the count. "The poor child must be under constant supervision, I'm afraid, for she cannot take care of herself. Do forgive us, if it please you."

 _Be so good as to fuck off, brother,_ I thought angrily. I could take care of _myself._ Yet as I stumbled over a particularly springy patch of grass, I collapsed to my hands and knees and coughed out a mixture of bile and saliva in the midst of my sobs. _No, I can't take care of myself, can I?_

"I'm sorry, Henrik," I wailed, pounding my fists upon the earth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" A twisted, disillusioned idea hit me upside the head. I could not bring Henrik back to life, but I could very well join him in death.

I wasted no time into digging my fingers into the moist, fertile dirt and digging through shrubs as if my life depended on it. An apparition of his corpse glowed faintly beneath my hands - rotten, pale, _lonely. "_ You will not be alone anymore, brother," I wept, mud caking my arms up to my elbows. "I will not leave you alone for the rest of eternity!"

"My lady?" I froze in my rapid movements, the voice snapping me out of my desperate trance. Henrik's corpse faded into thin air. "My lady, I'm afraid the harvest season is over, although I do appreciate your enthusiasm."

In a rage, I turned about on my knees to look upon who dared interrupt my doomed suicide attempt. It was a young boy, not much older than myself. Shoulder-length locks of red-gold curled down his neck, gleaming silver faintly in the moonlight. Something of a confused yet sardonic smile toyed at his lips. He was handsome, I realized, perhaps very much so. Round yet sharp features, along with a straight nose and symmetric cheekbones - quite handsome indeed, he must've been a holder of many a lady's affections.

But it was his eyes that drew me in. Eyes as blue and intense as a storming ocean, alight with emotions of every variety. A steely, mocking humor, a fierce curiosity, and potent sympathy was what I could see on the surface. It was an odd sort of mixture. "I implore you to _leave me alone_ ," I spat at him, lowering myself onto my haunches.

One admittedly delicate eyebrow tweaked up. "And leave you in such a state?" He brandished a lazy hand at my filthy form. "Why, my lady, that would be downright scandalous!"

I clenched my fists. "I don't care about a some bloody scandal. Do you want a scandal? If you don't leave me alone, I'll shred you into ribbons, and then you'll have your fucking scandal."

A tenor, bell-like laugh arose deep in his chest and the lack of real light seemed to whiten his glistening teeth. "I must say, you are the first person to threaten me with death before even five minutes have passed."

I smiled coldly, without a sliver of humor. "I do not threaten, my lord. I _promise._ "

Much to my utter outrage, he meandered on over, lowering himself into a sitting position not much more than an arm's length in front of me. "How extraordinarily refreshing. Imagine living in such a place," he waved a hand behind him at the gala, "surrounded by fake smiles, greedy hands, and empty threats. It's tiresome, let me tell you."

I allowed myself a tiny smirk as I tried to keep from falling into a thousand pieces. "My heart aches for you. I believe a de Martel sits before me, no?"

His answering grin was smug. "The honor is mine, Lady . . . ?"

I scoffed, "Wouldn't you like to know? You have to earn it, my lord." I was surprised at myself. Not five minutes before I teetered on the edge of yet another mental breakdown, and now, I returned his coy remarks with gusto. Something about his presence calmed me, no matter how horrendously sentimental it sounded.

If it were possible, he beamed even wider. "Very well, my lady. Since it appears I'm the only one of us who has any sense of common courtesy or manners, allow me to introduce myself. Lord James de Martel." He made a sweeping gesture for my hand, and pressed his lips upon the back of it, despite the dirt smeared over it.

For some strange reason, I found that inexplicably amusing, and he tilted his head to the side like a bewildered puppy as I burst out laughing. "Oh, color me _impressed_ , Lord James de Martel! What a stately name. It's a shame it does not befit your lackluster personality."

His pale pink lips parted in poorly feigned shock. "Why, I never!" He slumped over onto his back and propped his head up onto folded arms, appearing far less lordly now. "How _dare_ you, Lady Whatever-Your-Name-Is! I am _offended_." He enunciated each syllable very carefully. "Oh, well. You can call me Jamie, I suppose."

Despite my best efforts, I cracked another smile - a real one, this time. "Oh, I can? How magnanimous of you. I feel blessed."

He regarded me with unmasked fascination and intuition, such though that it made me squirm uncomfortably. "You're beautiful when you smile," he murmured, his eyes clouding over with thought. I swallowed hard. Everyone always said Rebekah was the beautiful sister. He probably didn't meet her yet. "When I arrived upon this scene," he vaguely gestured to the loose mounds of dirt, "you were most certainly not smiling. Why is that?"

I pursed my lips and collapsed beside him. The stars twinkled merrily above me. "Subtle," I sighed.

Jamie reached over and wound his fingers between mine, in which I rolled my head to the side and looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. A lopsided grin was my only answer. "I'm merely offering my unconditional support."

Ever so meticulously, I unraveled my hand from his. "You can take that support, and shove it up your lordly arse." As his face once again loosened in surprise, I tapped him playfully on the nose to lessen the force behind my words. "My twin brother, _my other half_ , was shredded by wolves and I've been mentally and emotionally unstable ever since. Arguably psychotic. Actually, no one's argued with that. I am _definitely_ psychotic. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Jamie stared at me, open-mouthed, for a good minute or two as he mulled over all of the heavy information I dumped all over him. His red-gold hair mingled pleasantly with the deep green of the grass, and - oh, _hell no_ , I wasn't the bloody Mikaelson to notice such random and frivolous things! That was _Nik_. Nik was the hopeless and occasionally pathetic romantic, not I. Ugh, it was _disgusting_. I wondered how he lived with himself. Or how Tatia ever put up with him. No wonder she chose Elijah . . . Too bad Mother killed her . . . not, that _whore._

"You are very honest," he finally croaked, licking his lips as if they'd suddenly gone dry. Then, he regained his composure, and smiled again, albeit much more weakly. "I like that. Everybody lies because they want something from me. You threatened to kill me a few times, but at least you're honest about it."

My hands began to tremble again, and with a sense of oncoming dread, I realized that my mind was not quite done with me yet. "It was nice to meet you, Lord James de Martel," I said hoarsely, and he raised an eyebrow. ". . . Jamie."

I rose to my feet with a supernatural grace, and began the trek back to the gala. Kol . . . I needed Kol. Kol, Kol, _Kol_ . . . He was the only one who could help me when I was like this. _Kol, Kol, please, find me . . ._

"Wait!" I paused. "I think I deserve to your name after our oh so meaningful heart-to-heart."

Despite my best efforts, I smiled again, tilting my head around ever so slightly. "Aria. My name is Aria." And with that, I abandoned him in the cold, searching for the one entity on this planet who managed to ground me to to reality. Once I slipped into the silence of shadows, I blurred away.

As if he could read my mind, Kol appeared out of nowhere, his face creased with uncharacteristic worry. His eyes widened then softened with relief once I glided into his line of sight. "Ri . . ."

Any bind I had over my emotions snapped into two, and I burst into tears, rushing over to him like a little child to her mother. I all but leaped into his arms, winding my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck like my life depended on it. "Ollie," I sobbed into the foreign, expensive fabric covering his shoulder. "Ollie, I-I want to die. _I want to die!_ I c-c-can't live without h-him, I c-can't, I can't, I-I can't -"

He clutched me to him so tightly that if I were still a breakable human, he would have shattered my skeleton and split my spine. "Never say that," he growled into the crown of my hair. "You are _alive_ , and you will remain so." His tone softened again. "I cannot do this without you, baby sister. Who else do I have? Bekah, who's loyal to only Nik? Elijah and Finn, who hold me in contempt? Nik, who cares more about his bloody paintings than _me_?! If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me, _please_ . . ."

"Make it stop," I moaned, banging a fist furiously against my skull as if to banish my insanity. My knuckles cracked open, blood trickling down my hand. "Make it stop . . . Henrik, Henrik, I want Henrik, he was here, here, he's rotting, he's lonely - Ollie, he's _alone_ , he's lonely, we abandoned him, he's all alone -"

I didn't notice him sneaking me back into the gala as I continued my frantic mantra. "Ollie, he was here, he was angry with me, he made me cry, Henrik wouldn't do that - Henrik, no, _Henrik_. It should've been me, it should've been me, it should've been me . . ."

"Hush, baby sister," he whispered into my ear, his voice sounding considerably more strained. ". . . You're breaking my heart."

Not even his slow, steady heartbeat could calm me now. "I-I tried digging for him, Ollie, his corpse - oh, his corpse, it's terrible, Ollie, there are maggots in his eyes and worms in his ears and dirt in his lungs and he's all alone, alone, _alone_ -"

A droplet of water rained down onto my head as I desperately grabbed at Kol's shirt for comfort. A tear, I realized, but he must've wiped it away as quickly as it was formed. "Ollie, make it stop, make it stop, kill me - Ollie, if you love me as you claim, kill me!"

Kol carried me into some quiet, secluded sitting room that must've been arranged only for my family, since all of my siblings were inside. "Kol, you found her!" a shrill, high voice cried out. "Did you allow her to bury herself in _mud_?"

"Shut it, Bekah," he snarled, the rebuke creating a deep rumbling vibration in his chest as he squeezed me even tighter. "I cannot settle her down. She thinks she saw Henrik again."

A black, feral wave of fury washed over me and I shoved Kol away as hard as I could. He flew across the room and would've smashed straight through the far wall if Nik and Elijah hadn't caught him first. "Fuck you!" I shouted, and the entire room collectively winced. "I _did_ see Henrik! He was _here_!" My siblings' expressions all carried a certain degree of pity, and my chest tightened. "Don't look at me like that, as if I'm _lying._ I'm not lying." I sped over to Nik and grasped him by the shoulders because he _needed_ to believe me, but he only stared back with wide blue eyes. "Nikky, you have to believe me," I begged, shaking from head to toe. "He was here this time, I swear he was . . . You believe me, don't you?"

Nik's eyes swept the room helplessly as if he were searching for something, but whatever it was, he did not receive it. Gently, he pried my hands off his shoulders, and I realized I had accidentally fractured his collar bones. "Of course I believe you, baby sister," he muttered, slowly but surely restraining my hands with one of his own.

Thrilled and overtaken by an abrupt bout of elation, I broke free of his restricting hold, and darted over to a very worried Elijah. "'Lijah, we have to go back home!" His brow creased deeply, and I moved over to Rebekah, who flinched away from me. I didn't pay her any mind. "Henrik is alone, Bekah, we must bring him with us, so he won't be lonely!" As she forced a smile that I interpreted as agreement, I last flashed over to Finn, of all people. He made no efforts to disguise his horror and bewilderment. "You miss Mother, don't you, brother? We will find them both, and we will be a family again -"

"Sister," he sighed, placing two firm hands on my bony shoulders, his brown eyes for once showing something other than distaste for me. "I know I have been harsh with you, and I am sorry for that, but we cannot go home. We have only just arrived, Aria, and we cannot return to the New World."

Tears blurred my vision and I stumbled away from him. "We have to go back!" I pinned a pleading gaze on each of my siblings, but none could meet my eyes. "W-We have to go back. . . ." I balled up my fists when I realized the truth. "Fine, if you won't, then _I_ will!"

I sprinted toward the door, and five sets of hands yanked me back, rendering me temporarily immobile. "Let me go!" They did not, and I struggled as if they had made an attempt on my life. I punched, kicked, elbowed, clawed . . . But one Original, the youngest to boot, was no match against five.

It was a shit-storm, to put it mildly. I broke almost every foreign valuable object in the room, shattering it against the wall or crushing it beneath my bare fingers. Kol made a leap of faith for me, so I threw a magnificent wooden table at his head, and he went down _hard_ , blood from his temple spilling out onto the cold marble floor. His neck was twisted in an unnatural direction.

 _Kol_ , I killed Kol. I immediately hated myself for that, loathed myself to my very core. I killed him - if only temporarily, but I killed him. Reaching for a jagged shard of a vase I'd stomped on, I stabbed it deep into my chest. Sinking to my knees, I gasped at the sudden spike of agony, but it was no less than what I deserved.

What happened next was a blur. Nik pinned my wrists to the bloody tiles, removing the makeshift weapon from my shredded chest. Bekah straddled my torso, her cheeks glistening with tears. Elijah cupped my face firmly between two large hands, while Finn acted as the look-out, in case anyone decided to wander too far down the wrong hall. "Aria, enough," Elijah grunted as I sunk my teeth into his palm, and he smacked me on cheek - not hard enough to fully constitute as a slap, but enough to sting and snap me out of my rabid state.

It was as if every muscle in my body gave up, and I slumped against the cold floor, completely and utterly exhausted. "I'm sorry," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut, wishing it all away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry . . ."

Rebekah climbed off my waist and ducked away from me, refusing to look at me. Elijah released his iron-clad grip on my face, and two strong arms hooked beneath my slender form, carrying me off - away, away, away . . . "Nikky," I mumbled, recognizing his distinct canine-esque scent.

Nik placed me onto a warm, feather-soft bed under a tall, overarching canopy with magenta curtains and egg-white sheets. Oh dear _gods_ , I hadn't even touched a bed in over a year. He tucked the thick blankets over me and sat on the edge of the mattress. "I killed Kol," I whispered.

He gave me a sad smile. "He'll be awake in a matter of minutes, little one. Perhaps there will be an ache in his neck, but he will be no worse for wear. You know this."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for all the pain I've caused." His plump, feminine lips pursed together. "You view me as a burden, do you not?" I asked him, straightforward, and he looked away. That was my answer, I supposed. "I do not blame you. Your lives would be easier without me." Sighing, he opened his mouth to speak, but I reached forward and grasped his hand, urging him to silence. "I am not attempting to wallow in self-pity, Nikky. I am telling the truth."

With a much larger, rougher thumb, he stroked the back of my hand. "Yes, you make our lives harder. I cannot deny that." I swallowed hard and nodded, but my eyes were as dry as sand. It was the truth, and I preferred honesty over patronization. "But it is worth it. None of us want to nor could live without you - well, perhaps Finn, but he hardly counts. You might very well be the most unstable and damaged person I have ever met, but you have a permanent and irreplaceable place in my heart. You make our lives _harder_ , yes, but you also make our lives _better_."

It was remarkable how much his series of backhanded compliments and full-blown insults brought me solace. I felt incredibly vulnerable and raw before him, and since I hadn't a drop of dignity left, I pushed aside my shame and asked quietly, "Nikky, will you stay with me? I-I don't want to see Henrik again. I can't. If I do, I fear . . ." I could not find it in me to finish.

Smiling sadly once more, he nodded without a beat of hesitation, and slid under the blankets beside me. His familiar vampire coolness and abnormally slow heartbeat was a potent comfort. "I love you, Nikky," I hummed. "For whatever it's worth, no matter what lies ahead of us, I will always stand by you. I promise you that, big brother."

His eyes fluttered close, and for a moment, I feared he wouldn't answer, but I finally slipped into a deep, peaceful slumber when he replied, "And that is why you are more than worth the trouble you bring, baby sister."

 **A/N: At the end there lies a hint in what will unravel over a thousand years, what with Klaus' penchant to dagger his siblings and stuff them into coffins. What did you guys think about this chappy? I warned you it would be angst-y, but I hope you appreciated the lighter moments as well. I loooooove feedback!**


	5. A Whole New World

**A/N: Ahhhh, I haven't updated in a few months now. I'm so sorry! It was all my bad. Hopefully, this will make up for it. A few more chapters, and then, it should switch to Modern Mystic Falls. Thank you so much for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing this story! You guys rock.**

 **I just started junior year and calculus will be the death of me, but I'm going to try my hardest to write as often as I can. I already started the next chapter.**

 **Oh, and I switched this story to the category of _The Vampire Diaries_ rather than _The Originals_. It _will_ eventually pan out to the Originals, but it spends enough time in the TVD universe that it made sense to simply put it into that category since it came first. Anyway, I won't hold you up any longer, so please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

I wasn't ready to leave my room for three days. Whenever I had an episode, it left me listless and without emotion. And knowing that the whispers of my mental state must've traveled around the entire castle made it that much harder to leave the comforts of my new bed.

Eventually, Rebekah coaxed me out of bed with an intriguing piece of information. "Lord James de Martel has been asking about you. Now, do you know why that is?"

Right away, peeled my face from my satin pillow. "He's asking about me?" Oh, this was _interesting_.

She arched her delicate blonde eyebrows. "More like he has not _stopped_ asking about you. Nik overheard him pestering the Count de Martel for information and he all but threw a fit. In fact, it was all I could do to speak to you in his stead."

Warmth blossomed inside of my chest, and a light blush crept to my cheeks. "The Count is having a luncheon and James will be there. Would you like to come, sweet sister?"

I tossed my legs over the side of the mattress and stretched out my arms. "I suppose I could do with some company."

A half hour later, after Rebekah and I finished dolling ourselves up, we strolled down the halls to meet with our brothers, who had already gathered up. They looked up in surprise once they noticed me along with my dear older sister. "Ri," Kol greeted happily, tilting his face to the side so I could peck him on the cheek. "I thought the luncheon would be boring. It appears not."

Niklaus was not in the mood for pleasantries. "What does James de Martel want with you?" he pressed as we all continued walking. "His little questions are incessant and frankly irritating. Lord Tristan looks to be a second away from stabbing him."

Finn, Elijah, and Kol watched me with sharp eyes, obviously taking their roles as overprotective elder brothers _very_ _seriously_. Pursing my lips, I gave off a light shrug. "I do not know what you mean, brother dear. Perhaps he only wants to see someone closer to his age."

All four brothers released grunts of displeasure, and Bekah giggled loudly. Unfortunately, Niklaus did not get to continue his interrogation as we entered the enormous, grand dining room. A crystal chandelier twinkled and glittered above, a stately beauty, and the polished oak table was already packed full with lords and ladies. Unable to stop myself, I scanned each unfamiliar face for someone in particular. My heart softened once I saw him.

There was a stretch of empty seats near the de Martels - perhaps the other nobles were afraid of them, for the most part. The Count sat at the head, as regal and cool as ever, with Lord Tristan and Lady Aurora on one side and Jamie on the other.

Jamie's eyes lit up like sapphires once he noticed me, and he jerked up from his seat. "Lady Aria!" he cried, a huge smile pulling his plump lips apart. "You look lovely." I was adorned in a deep purple gown, my black curls hanging loose down my sides, tickling my slender hips. "I feared you would not join us. Come, come, sit next to me." In one smooth gentlemanly gesture, he pulled out a chair for me, and I gracefully lowered myself into it.

Aurora watched me with no hidden amount of curiosity and Tristan with no hidden amount of suspicion. Rebekah, though, found herself next to the beautiful redhead and drew her attention away. The rest of my family surrounded us, making small talk with the other aristocrats, although Niklaus only had eyes for Aurora. "I almost did not," I confessed quietly to Jamie, addressing his previous remark. "Until I heard you had been asking after me. Imagine my surprise!"

A pale pink traveled to his cheeks, but he remained cheery, stabbing his fork into his juicy-looking venison with unnecessary gusto. "Spending too much time with older siblings can be poor for your health," he mused, slicing into the meat, "I would know. I merely worried for your well-being."

A small, cold smile overtook Tristan's handsome face. "Tell us how you truly feel, baby brother." Jamie beamed in response, tucking into his hearty meal. I was not particularly hungry for human food, but I managed to pick at the tender meat.

"Enough, James," the Count boomed, fixing him with a steely look. "You would do well to model yourself after your half-brother." The minute stiffening of Jamie's spine would have been unnoticeable to most, but I was not most people.

Half-brother? _Hmm_. Perhaps he had a different mother? It made no difference to me. Niklaus, after all, had a different father and he was no less my brother.

"Yes, Father," he mumbled. Tristan's smirk also did not go unnoticed by me, and it took every drop of my self-control not to kick him under the table.

Aurora joined the conversation, and reached across the table to trail her ivory fingers over Jamie's hand. "Oh, dearest Father, my little brother is still young and fresh to this world. Allow him his simply pleasures. He loves us dearly, I know." The Count sent her a half-hearted glare, and she quieted.

Then, the Count shifted his attention toward me, and I fought the urge to squirm in my seat. I was stronger than him, faster than him, _better_ than him. I needed not fear his judgement. "I trust you have a clearer head today, than when I first met you." It was not a question, and I bristled. "My estate has some of the best healers in our parts. I will be sure to usher them your way, no questions asked. Your . . . hmm, _episodes_ will disappear in no time, I'd wager." A malevolent shadow crossed his wrinkly old face. "It is prudent that they do, for however long you intend to reside in my home."

Jamie flashed me a concerned side-length glance. I clenched my fists so hard they trembled, and Elijah, who sat on the other side of me, lay a warning hand on my shoulder. The intent gazes of my five elder siblings found me and remained there. "Thank you ever so much for your kindness," I finally forced myself to say, mild sarcasm swimming underneath my flowery words. "You are as fair and good a host as you are a father, it seems. Your sons and daughter are terribly lucky to have you. You remind me of my own beloved father, my lord. The resemblance is . . . _uncanny_."

Jamie snorted softly and Kol stifled a snicker a few chairs down, where he was in the process of wooing chaste, virginal ladies into his bed. The rest of my siblings tensed at the true meaning behind my apparent compliments. The Count's eyes narrowed to slits, but he did not push the issue further, instead speaking to Elijah about the upcoming hunt he wished my brothers partake in. Elijah's hand tightened around my shoulder until it hurt. Smiling to myself, I dug into my venison.

"Hold your tongue," Elijah breathed for only me to hear. I ignored him.

"A battle well-fought," Jamie murmured under his breath, "but do not bring yourself a war, my lady."

"I've won many wars of sorts," I whispered back, smirking. "I hardly think this will be different. You need not fear, my lord, but your concern is downright touching." Elijah smacked me on the arm so fast the human naked eye was unable to catch it, but it stung like hell and Niklaus chortled into his wine. Sometimes I hated my family.

After the luncheon, Lady Aurora courteously invited the lot of us to spend time in the gardens, but only Jamie, Rebekah, Niklaus, and I accepted. Kol was like to munch on some villagers, or so he told me, but I denied his invitation - for now. The time I spent bedridden left me rather famished, and I planned to slip into the thick of the city with my wildest brother that very evening.

"What a splendid day," Jamie hummed as he stalked through the carved-out pathways with his hands folded behind his back. "Not a single cloud in the sky. A rarity here, I must admit."

I draped myself across a stone bench, fiddling with the flowers of every imaginable color and size. Nik's heated glare was stuck upon the two of us, and I had no doubt whatsoever that if Jamie tried anything, he would not live to see the sun rise the next morning. "It's beautiful here," I sighed. "But it makes me imagine my home vil - _city_. I miss it more than I can express in words."

Not the village, exactly. But what was left inside of it. As I had the endless opportunities to feast my eyes on true beauty and wonders, Henrik was serving as fertilizer for grass.

"I was surprised when I heard you were from these lands," Jamie admitted, moving to sit beside me. "I cannot quite put my finger on it, but I could have sworn you were from elsewhere. Far elsewhere."

Oh, how right he was. How I wished to tell him I was not even from this _continent_ , let alone these lands. He continued, "I am quite the opposite of you. I want desperately to travel as far away as one can. I've marked certain areas on my maps that I wish to visit. Perhaps live there, one day. You see, it is not necessary that _I_ stay here. Only Tristan. Rorie and I will be long gone in a few years' time."

I glanced back at Aurora, and observed with no small amount of relief that she had fully captured both my sister's _and_ brother's undivided attention. For now, Jamie and I were not being watched.

On a whim, I reached for his hand. "Come with me," I whispered, keeping one eye on Niklaus to make sure he did not notice our exit. Jamie was obliging as I tugged him off the well-worn paths, ducking away into the shade of thick trees of all kinds, for a moment of privacy. "I apologize. We cannot talk freely with my brother watching us so closely."

"You wish to talk freely, then?" he asked, a cheeky expression in place. I rolled my eyes, but smiled anyway. His mirth faded, replaced by a wistful look. "The world is small, smaller than I would like. Every night before I retire, I look upon my maps, and wonder. The world must be bigger than what it displays. It _must_ be."

"Can I trust you, Jamie?" I asked abruptly, deciding to be blunt.

He grinned. "I should hope so."

That was not enough for me. "If I tell you a secret, you will not run along to your father and repeat it word for word?"

Jamie assumed an offended look, his hand rising to his chest dramatically. "As if I would willingly speak to my father about _anything_ , _ever_. Your secret is safe with me, Aria."

I couldn't help myself. I had to tell him the truth. Not the full truth, of course, nowhere near it - but he had to know what the world was much bigger than he could even imagine. I wanted to open his eyes to how much was _out there_. "I am not the daughter of the Count de Guise," I whispered, and his eyes swelled to the size of moons. "Nor are my siblings his children. You were right before. We are not from these lands."

He reached out for my hands, his soft pink lips parting with surprise. "I _knew_ it. Then where are you from?"

Allowing my excitement to get the better of me, I wound my fingers with his. "From a whole new land entirely." He tilted his head to the side like a bewildered puppy. "Jamie, I am telling you this in _confidence_ , but to the west, beyond a vast ocean, there is a whole new land." Scoffing, he began to pull back, but I would not allow him to. "I am speaking the truth! Nobody knows of it - not yet, anyway, but I've seen it with my very own eyes and it is _beautiful_."

One look into his endless pools of eyes told me all I needed to know. "That's . . . extraordinary." A slow but sure smile spread across his face. "Follow me!" I shrieked at the sudden movement, a joyful noise, as he began to tow me back to the castle around the gardens so Niklaus would not see, his pace swift.

A bubbly laugh escaped my chest as we snuck into the castle, his quick movements unrelenting. "Come on - follow, follow, follow!" he shouted merrily, unaware of the fact that I could run laps around him. Guards paid us no mind as we tore across the virtually empty hallways.

I honestly giggled as we reached an opulent, winding staircase. His palm was hot and sweaty, but I enjoyed the human contact. Once, my legs would have burned as we raced up step by step, but now, only a comfortable coolness was left in its wake.

Jamie didn't let go of my hand until we reached his bedroom, in which he kicked open his door in his glee. It was a gorgeous bedroom, truly fit for a lord. It was similar to mine, but bigger, and better decorated. More personal. Jamie paid no mind to all that as he raced across the intricate rugs to his desk. Frantically, he rummaged through his drawers.

I leaned against the wooden doorway, content with watching him in all his boyish thrill. "You act as if I've given you the best news of a lifetime," I said, laughing softly.

He looked over his shoulders, the pure ecstasy written across his handsome features. "You have," he replied, returning to his task. "This is nothing short of wonderful." He released a whoop of triumph as he fished out a large, incomplete map. "Come in," he said, gesturing impatiently.

Although it was terribly inappropriate, I slipped inside and clicked shut the door behind me. He reached for a well of ink, nearly spilling it all over his desk in the process, before dipping a feather quill inside. "I'm in dire need of your expertise." He flattened out the map, and it was no shock that the Old World resided in the perfect center of it. It connected to Asia on both sides, and huffing, he pulled out another parchment to lay over the left of it. "Now," he said, grinning away. "How big is the ocean separating the two lands?"

I remembered the distance as best I could, but I was in an admittedly catatonic state as we crossed the ocean back to the Old World, the grief over Henrik dictating my every thought and action. I bit my lip thoughtfully, then tapped gently onto the parchment in a reasonable space away. "Here."

Jamie began to sketch sloppy borders. "How large is the land?" he asked, distracted with his work.

"I could not say," I told him truthfully. "We had not traveled far westward. We lived close to the eastern coast." Still, I tried my best to verbalize what the borders most likely looked like, and he drank in my every instruction eagerly.

Finally, once he deemed the eastern border finished enough, he wrote inside the land mass with small, neat handwriting. I tossed my head back and laughed at the name he'd scribbled inside. " _Arialand_?" Clutching my sides, I guffawed at the mere thought of it. "Oh, I am undeserving of such compliments!"

Jamie smiled again, entirely unbothered by my reaction. "It's what I'll call it; it's _perfect_!"

I peered up at him through my thick curtain of eyelashes, still thoroughly amused. "And you will be the first to _discover_ it, then, besides the Vikings?"

He was nodding proudly before I even finished. "Of course! I'll find a ship, I'll gather a crew, I'll sail said ship, and I'll go as far west as I need to until I reach its shores - and I'll document _everything_ on the way." Unable to contain his excitement, he leaped onto his bed, nearly slamming his head against the top of the canopy. It did little to deter him. "Come, join me in my celebration!"

Grinning almost as wide as he, I accepted his offered hand and allowed him to pull me onto his mattress, then bounced around with him as he jabbered on and on in his euphoria. Then he paused, looking over at me in a whole new light. "Wait, wait - you're a _Viking_?!"

Giggling madly, I shoved him backwards, and he collapsed back onto the mattress. He snatched my wrist on the way, and I fell hard on top of him, knocking the wind out of him. It only took us a moment to absorb such a precarious situation before bursting into wholehearted, body-encompassing laughter.

His chest was surprisingly firm and taut beneath my bosom, and his muscles rippled and shifted against me as he laughed as noisily as he dared. In our shared joy, I straddled his waist, tapping him playfully on the nose. He stuck out his tongue at me, attempting to slobber all over my hand, and we made a game of it - I tapped him anywhere on the face I could reach, and he tried to lick my nimble fingers in the process.

Digging my fingers into his silky waves of orange-gold hair, I leaned in to make a mess of it, and much to my absolute shock, he tilted his head up and captured my lips in a kiss. His lips were warm, soft, _alive_ \- molded perfectly against mine.

As I experimentally moved my lips in rhythm with his, his tongue faltered inside the opening of my mouth, begging for entrance. I gladly accepted, moaning into him as his tongue explored my mouth. I continued to grip fistfuls of his hair, and became very aware of how I sat on him. My hips involuntarily rocked in pleasure as his fingers trailed fire down my neck. Fabric shifted out of the way and he stopped for a moment as his fingertips met with my ugly brand.

I broke off the kiss, self-conscious as he eyed the horrid scar. "I-I'm sorry, I should have -"

Jamie shook his head, a sweet smile pushing up his swollen lips. "You are beautiful, Aria." Then, he entangled his fingers in my mane of ebony curls, crashing his lips against mine once more.

My heart thundered in my chest as heat traveled to my core. I jumped a little in surprise as something hard poked me between the legs, and my hands wandered all over his chest as his cupped my backside. I groaned into his mouth at the foreign but pleasurable sensation.

And then something terrible happened. The door banged open, displaying none other than Niklaus himself, more furious than I'd ever seen him. I frantically untangled myself from Jamie, crawling off the bed, adjusting my dress back into place. My heart continued to thump like a hummingbird's wings, but now for an entirely different reason.

"And what do we have here?" he said coldly, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. The forced casual pose was all a ruse - he was ready to kill someone, most likely Jamie. "I decided to take my eyes off you for _one minute_ , choosing to accept that you could take care of yourself, but it appears I was woefully incorrect."

My entire body shook from head to toe in fear as Jamie's mouth opened and closed like a fish. He quickly covered himself with a blanket, hiding his arousal - but Niklaus noticed, and if it were possible, even more rage etched across the lines of his face. He reached out his hand, and it trembled in his incandescent anger. "You are _dead_."

Numbly, I stood in front of the frightened boy. "No, Nikky," I said, my voice cracking and squeaking on its way out. "Do not hurt him, please, I'll go with you."

"No," Jamie breathed behind me, clearly worried for my safety in Niklaus' presence. I spun around to face him. "Aria -"

"I'll be all right," I murmured, hoping to soothe his worries. "He's my big brother. I am safe with him."

"Yes," Nik echoed from behind me, his voice hard with mocking. "She is safe with _me_. I'll keep any _unwanted_ hands off her." His hand shot out of nowhere, pulling me along with him. "Come with me, baby sister," he growled, and Jamie could only watch in a panic as he dragged me away at an almost unnatural speed.

His strides were long and unrelenting, and I had to awkwardly jog to keep up with him. His grip on my arm cut off all blood flow, but the look on his face was so terrifying I deigned not to voice that. In one second of pure terror, I wondered if he would beat me as Father used to.

"Nikky, talk to me, please," I begged and he tightened his hold on me to the point where my toes only skimmed the surface of the floor as he marched along.

"What is there to say?" he growled. "Elijah warned me to watch over you this afternoon, and I failed my duties." That hurt. Neither of them trusted me in any way, shape, or form. To them, I was merely a shell of insanity. "I find you in a lord's _bedroom_ , acting the part of a whore -"

With a flush of anger, I shoved him away from me. Why did I have to be afraid of him? I was equally powerful, our age gap being the only indicator otherwise. "I'm not a whore. I kissed a boy. That does not make me a whore. You and Ollie are whores."

He recoiled, his face twisting into a grimace. "Men cannot be whores."

"Says the righteous whore himself." He opened his mouth to protest, but I interrupted him with, "Oh, I'm well aware of your involvement with Aurora. You're fucking her. And if you are not, you will. I was kissing Jamie. Beg my pardon, but there _is_ a difference."

"Do not dare say that again in my presence," he said lowly, and something dawned on me. This was not the Nikky I knew and adored. This was Klaus, the newfound beast of a man with increasing violent tendencies. I couldn't risk confusing one for the other, because it was my well-being on the line.

Much to my intense displeasure, I kept my mouth shut, and he dragged me all the rest of the way to sitting room so generously offered to our family. Elijah was the only one left inside, thumbing through a thick, yellowed book he found in the castle's impressive library. " _Elijah_!" Niklaus and I yelled at the same time, and startled, the called-upon brother almost dropped the novel off his lap.

Neither of us wasted any time in serving our complaints to him, the family's unofficial mediator.

"Our baby sister is a whore -"

"Our bastard brother is a hypocrite -"

"I caught her with the youngest de Martel -"

"I am not the only one in this family who wants one of them -"

"She was in his _bedroom_ -"

"Whilst Niklaus was left alone with Aurora, doing the gods know _what_ -"

"Those are two separate issues -"

"No, they're not, and you're an idiot -"

"ENOUGH!" Elijah bellowed, at the end of his tether, the ringing shout echoing up and down the nearest hallways. We both immediately fell silent. Elijah hardly ever raised his voice, and when he did, he meant business. His patience was unlimited, so when even _he_ was fed up, then there would be hell to pay. "Collect yourselves, the both of you." Sneaking each other heated glares, the two of us drew in deep breaths as Elijah himself visibly calmed. "Now, tell me what has occurred."

Niklaus wasted no time in painting an unfortunate picture of me in the worst light to our judgmental older brother. He rambled on about how I was meant to stay in the gardens under his _watchful eye_ , but I "escaped," and I had to have closer supervision. He ended up finishing his dramatic tirade with, "And then I walk into his bedroom, and lo and behold, she is straddled over him and they're kissing. His hands, mind you, were in places they were _not meant to be_."

When he put it like that, and with Elijah's steady, piercing dark gaze shifted upon me, I didn't have much of an argument. But, I refused to let Niklaus win. "I am not a child." The two of them scoffed in unison, and my blood boiled. "Neither of you trust me in any sense of the word. Kol is more wild than even I, and yet, he is out slaughtering village folk at this very second, whilst your tail feathers remain unruffled."

Elijah glanced away, perhaps accepting the shame layered behind my accusation. "You are even more unpredictable than he," Niklaus drawled during Elijah's stoic silence, "and thus, our trust for you has wavered over the past year. Whenever we expect you to do something, you do the opposite. For instance, I expected you to stay in the gardens like a good little girl, and look how that unfolded."

"It is of no sense that I am held to different standards," I bit back, my temper pushing to the breaking point, ready to snap at any time.

"That's the way it is," Elijah sighed, punching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Is it ideal? No. But men and women are held to different standards and it is not in your prerogative here to stand out in a crowd. We do not want to be seen as different from our peers, or we will be forced to flee. You are ten and four, and appear ten and three. Niklaus is a grown man who is capable of making his own decisions."

"And I am not capable of making my own decisions?" I echoed with a dangerous edge, narrowing my eyes. He had to answer _very_ carefully or else I was fully prepared to lash out.

It turned out, Nik exploded before I even had the chance to. "Enough with this!" he snarled. "You make every damned thing so much harder than it need be! Why, other than to ail us? Am I so remiss to believe that, underneath your conscious thoughts, are malicious intentions?"

To say I was offended would be a severe understatement. "It would not be remiss, perhaps not, if thought about coherently," I ground out through clenched teeth, "but it would be exceptionally unbrotherly of you. Jamie kissed _me,_ first of all, and this negates any _malicious intentions_ on my behalf, does it not?"

Niklaus, unfortunately, was not willing to be swayed. Whenever he was riled up, he refused to calm himself again until he said what he felt he needed to say. And now, he had not yet offered his final piece. "This would be far easier if it were Henrik who survived," he declared slowly and deliberately. His words were designed to hurt.

It was as if the wind was knocked straight from my lungs. Father had once uttered the essence of that hateful phrase to me, and of all people, I would have assumed Nik would be the one to understand the effect it had on me. He should have _understood,_ having dealt with Father's rage, but instead, he twisted up my deepest insecurities and fashioned them as a weapon to win a petty argument.

This was not the Nikky I knew. This was Klaus, and I was beginning to hate him.

"Niklaus, that's enough," Elijah boomed, aghast. His dark eyes were wide with shock. Even he would have never expected Klaus to lower himself in such a vile manner. Klaus, meanwhile, had the bare decency to look ashamed of himself.

If he wanted to deal such hurtfully flung insults, then he had to be prepared for the killing blow. "Well, we could not know if it would be easier," I replied, deceptively calm and quiet, "for he is dead, and you caused his untimely death."

Klaus visibly retracted as if I'd slapped him across the face. Bottling up my guilt into a neat little package, I growled, "I am going to join the only brother who even attempts to understand me. The only one who trusts me to make my own decisions, and values me as a sister and as a person. I would bid you enjoy the rest of your day, but I have a feeling you will not."

Smirking to myself at the damage I'd wrecked upon the two men, Klaus unable to meet my even gaze and Elijah tenser than ever, I waltzed out of the room. They did not bother to stop me. Stomping down the bustling hallways by my lonesome, I did not manage to catch a glimpse of Jamie. I shivered at the memory of his lips molded to mine. I thought that I would like to kiss him again, although it would have to be behind my brothers' back.

It did not take long to find Kol; he was unpredictable, but I knew him like the back of my hand, and it was not difficult to locate him. He was in an alley behind a local, empty tavern, hidden away in a dark, secluded corner drinking alcohol and blood alike. Wenches stood on either side of him, terrified out of their minds, but nobody was any the wiser. "Ollie," I greeted warmly, stepping over all the filth and puddles of waste. "A sight for sore eyes, you are indeed."

"Ri," he exclaimed, grinning a drunken, bloody-toothed smile. "Join me! The more the merrier." He leaned in and trailed his tongue up one of the girl's bleeding necks. "Isn't that right, darling?" he murmured into her skin, and she trembled. "Ri, I've developed a magic trick of sorts, watch me." Looking deep into her eyes, he ordered, "Say that I am the most handsome man you have ever met."

"You are the most handsome man I have ever met," she monotoned.

Unimpressed, I arched a single brow. "She's frightened for her life. Of course she's willing to do anything to survive."

He waved an impatient hand. "Don't you wonder why they aren't screaming their little heads off? It's because I was annoyed and ordered them not to, and they are forced to listen to me." Intrigued, I observed as he commanded each girl to do something seemingly random, but they followed through each time. "See? It's exceptional. Do not tell Elijah. He'll be complaining about free will and all that."

"I doubt that. He would do the same if he discovered the tactic." Despite the morality Elijah preached and lived by, he would do anything for his family, including better cover our tracks with this strange mind control. "Mind if I have a bite?"

He dragged one away from the wall, and she stumbled over to me. "Have at it."

I smiled at her, icy in the face of her fear, and extended my fangs. "My apologies, sweet girl - this is not your lucky day." As I sunk my teeth into her neck and drank the delicious nectar of the gods, I internally celebrated over the fact that I was, in fact, capable of making my own decisions.

They just, most of the time, happened to be the _wrong_ ones.

 **A/N: So I know that technically in canon, Elijah was the first one to discover compulsion, but since Kol went off on his own most of the time and hunted the most victims, I didn't think it would be too OOC for him to discover it first and simply not say anything about it. Anyway, what'd you think about this chapter? Like it, love it, hate it? Let me know! :D**


	6. Mischief and Misery

**A/N: I haven't updated in like six months. I suck so bad. Ugh. I'm sorry! School's been a crapshoot, and I've suffered from writer's block galore. But I'm back! Thank you to all who have read, reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. You guys are awesome.**

 **Okay, so I was planning on having a tourney/joust thing this chapter, but then it got too long, so this chapter is basically the morning of the tourney, and the next chapter will be the tourney, in which some vampire Mikaelson antics will rear their heads and there will be a big dramatic moment at the end of next chapter.**

 **Yeah, so when I said modern-day Mystic Falls is coming in a few chapters, that was a bit of a lie. It'll be a bit longer than that. This is Aria's story, and a huge component of it is her falling in love with Jamie, so I've taken time to flesh out their story, and even when we move past this time period, there are a few TVD historical landmarks I want to touch upon with Aria before we move to present time.**

 **This chapter has a lot of stuff kind of shoved in it. Aria has some family moments/quarrels but also is still reeling from her huge argument with Klaus, and then she has some alone time with Jamie that gets a _little_ less than G-rated. I wouldn't necessarily call it a lemon, as it's more young teenagers exploring their sexualities, but yeah, that's in there. At the end, she reflects about her life without Henrik, she learns more about Jamie, etc.**

 **Warning: Teenage girl performs sexual act on teenage boy.**

 **I'll shut up now. Please read, review, and enjoy! Thanks so much! :D**

 **Chapter 6:** **Mischief and Misery**

Avoiding Klaus for days, nearing weeks on end wasn't as difficult as I originally anticipated. For one, Kol preferred to mingle in the city, and I stayed by Kol's side, but also, Klaus was staying clear of me as much as I was him. Neither of us wanted to face what we said to the other. It was _much_ easier to ignore it.

At least until the tourney. It was a grand event, celebrating Tristan de Martel's latest nameday. Unfortunately, none of my brothers were competing in it, as they did not want to garner notoriety that could spread to Mikael. Kol was particularly saddened by the missed opportunity of bloodshed. Meanwhile, Lord de Martel had been more than a bit put off by my brothers' lack of participation, but Elijah had cajoled him into complacency. Or so he thought. Truly, Kol had used his newfound mind control on him, our shared little secret.

Manipulating humans only got more and more fun with time.

In the meantime, I had snuck brief visits to Jamie in the gardens, exchanging kisses and other pleasantries with him. "You are the rose of my life," he had told me as the sun had set beneath the trees, bathing him in its weak, dappled rays. At the time, I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him; he was awfully dramatic when he wanted to be, and he did it mostly because I found it so ridiculous, but it did make me laugh, especially when he said it with that stupid, lopsided grin of his. "A delicate flower, whose petals are individual wonders to behold."

"I'm not so delicate," I had replied, leaning in for a kiss. "You cannot break what's already broken."

Knights and lords and ladies traveled from surrounding lands, wearing capes and fabrics of every color and material. It was a true spectacle. In my home village, I had never seen such variety, not even from the natives who were a constant, looming threat in the entire time I lived there. The feathers and ceremonial headpieces were not replicated in the Old World, I noticed, which I thought was a shame. Back home, most thought the natives to be savages, but their simple and spiritual way of life had always fascinated me.

The wolves had been natives. The wolves who killed Henrik. But, I found, I did not blame them. Nor did I blame Niklaus for bringing him during the night of the transformation, no matter what I told him. It had been cruel of me to say, but even crueler of him to wish me dead in place of my twin. Nik hadn't been cruel before Henrik's death, before Mother and Father turned us into monsters.

But then again, neither had I.

Aurora, Rebekah, and I were crowded inside the redhead's sitting room, powdering our cheeks and fixing our hair. More than once I felt a pang of jealousy at their natural, effortless beauty. I was well aware of my own good looks, as Jamie told me often enough and I wasn't one to feign modesty, but compared to Bekah, I was often looked over. Her soft waterfall of blonde tresses, angular cheekbones, and ocean blue eyes were appealing to everyone. My own black hair, near-black eyes, and rounder face didn't do the trick for many western European men. And anyways, I would always be ten and three, a child to most. I was lucky to have Jamie, a boy himself. Only, he would grow into a man, and I would remain a little girl.

I tried not to think about that.

"Oh, Aurora, this rouge is lovely," Rebekah gushed as she applied the red balm to her lips, pursing her lips to admire them. The pair of hens were stationed in front of Aurora's mirror, while I sat on the bed, swinging my legs back and forth, bored out of my mind. "You simply must tell me where you acquired it."

"I believe I received it as a gift from some Eastern lady or another," Aurora replied, puckering her own lips at the mirror, brushing her hair at the same time. Her vivid orange hair was truly enchanting, and it covered her sides like a warm cloak. It wasn't difficult to notice what Niklaus saw in her. Every part of her was beautiful, and the gods knew my brother loved his beautiful women. First Tatia, and now her.

Aurora held the rouge out to me, the first time either of them addressed me during their entire conversation. I blinked, a little startled. "Oh, Aria, you _must_ try it. It would look gorgeous on you, what with your dark hair. You want to impress my little brother, do you not? He will be performing in the tourney, you do know."

Yes, I did know. Jamie, in a fit of impish excitement, had informed me not a fortnight before in the lingering shadows of the forest. He had practiced daily since then, ready and raring to challenge the greatest warriors in the realm. Lords Tristan and James had been trained since young childhood to wield a blade, although Jamie was more inclined toward knighthood than his elder brother, due to the unfair laws of primogeniture.

He was good, apparently, very good, from what I'd gathered from folks about the castle and Jamie himself. He was something of a prodigy, it seemed, and desperately eager to prove himself to me. I wanted to tell him that a silly tourney would not enhance or remove my feelings for him in any way, but he was incorrigible, so I didn't bother.

Truth be told, I had no need to impress Jamie, as I'd already long-since done so. But still, I hadn't adorned a well-fitted, vibrant, turquoise gown for no reason at all. My curls of hair were pinned in some areas by sparkling combs and arranged artfully. And across my bosom was a huge, gorgeous emerald necklace that he'd gifted me not days after I mentioned green was my favorite color.

How I adored bright and beautiful things.

For that reason, I allowed Aurora and Rebekah to doll me up, painting my face with layers and layers of nonsense. It did look nice, though, albeit odd. It defined the angles of my cheekbones and jaw, but also made it difficult to move my face. "Beauty is pain," Aurora had reminded me. My lips were now the color of freshly spilled blood, though, which pleased me. It hadn't pleased Bekah when I mentioned it aloud, as she rapidly attempted to cover for my supposed misstep.

Despite all the make-up and primping, I felt more insecure and self-conscious than ever as I strolled down the halls, arm and arm with Rebekah, Aurora having gone to "gather some air" or more likely, find intimacy with Klaus. It was cute how the redhead acted as if she wasn't fucking him all the damn time, because we could smell him all over her. It was a little disgusting, actually.

"She's gone," Rebekah breathed, sounding relieved. I recoiled slightly, a little taken aback. The two of them had seemed to get along so well. Personally, I found Aurora's presence taxing, but Bekah hadn't shown an inkling of the same dislike. "Oh, don't look at me like that, sister. I only wanted to speak with you alone."

"What did you want to speak about?" I asked hesitantly. I knew full well what she wanted to speak about, but I chose to stall her in case she wanted to change her mind and spare me the trouble. Rebekah fixed me with a knowing look, and I dropped the act. "Oh, fine. Ask away, but if I reserve the right not to answer."

"You've been sneaking out with Jamie," she accused, and I blushed. "It's so obvious, Aria, truly - even more so than your and Kol's little trips into the city." I examined a _very interesting_ thread on my silk sleeve. "Have you," she lowered her voice, " _done_ things?"

Done things? What sort of wanton trollop did she take me for? Then again, maybe I _was_ a wanton trollop for spending so much personal time with him. If I was, though, then I didn't regret a thing. Not a single thing. In fact, I sort of liked it. It made me feel older. "No!" I immediately exclaimed, then considered it. "Not really . . . We kiss, and sometimes his hands are . . ."

Rebekah, grabbing me by the arm, tugged me around the corner and into a secluded, shadowed area. "Are _what_?" she demanded, the urgency in her tone rather misplaced for the subject of our conversation, but I supposed she was living vicariously through me.

"They wander, at times," I admitted, and she smiled in a way only a teasing older sister could. "And it feels . . . nice."

"But nothing more?" she pressed.

"Why do you ask?" I evaded, a bit suspicious.

She straightened, brushing a stray lock out of her face, and cleared her throat. "Our brothers have been . . . less than pleased, and I only want to ensure they have nothing to worry over, as they have been."

They knew? It was one thing if Rebekah noticed, as she was my sister and in-tune with such matters, but I thought I'd been somewhat more inconspicuous than _that_. "Which brothers?"

Rebekah gnawed on her lip, clearly nervous. "All of them, I suppose."

I exhaled sharply through my nostrils. All of them? "Ollie hasn't said a thing to me." That sneaky little prick. He was supposed to be the _one_ sibling I could trust with everything and who could trust me with equal fervor. _Apparently_ I was mistaken.

She admired her fingernails. "He's mentioned something once or twice. More in passing than the others."

I felt like vaulting my head into the wall. "Oh, and what have the _others_ been saying?"

Her hesitance was evident in her response. "Finn disapproves of most of your activities in the first place." She made a good point. Finn disliked me no matter what I did. "Elijah is close to tearing his hair out. He tends to wait up on you when you disappear after dark, when you are without Kol. He's worried you will make . . . foolish decisions." No surprise there, either. Elijah liked to keep a tight leash on me. I was only surprised he hadn't said anything yet. Maybe he was enacting a piss-poor attempt to maintain my privacy - which wouldn't last much longer. "And Nik . . ."

"Don't feign as if he cares, sister," I scoffed, the mere thought of it setting me on edge. "He's been ignoring me for weeks on end. He wanted to kill Jamie before, and now he hasn't mentioned him once."

"But he _does_ care, Ari!" Her expression was earnest and frankly, a little desperate. Why was she so invested in this? As if reading my thoughts, she continued, "I hate seeing the two of you at odds with each other. It's not right."

"He started it," I said immediately.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And you've done nothing to fan the flames?"

Perhaps blaming Klaus for Henrik's death had been uncalled for, but he'd all but said he wished Henrik was alive in my place. What was I supposed to do? Applaud him? Shower him with praise? He hurt me, so I hurt him back. He was a grown man, as he so often loved to rub in my face; he could take it.

"He is acting brutish and unbrotherly," I replied stiffly, not appreciating the fact that she was so obviously taking his side, as she always did. And they wondered why I always chose Kol in the end. "I kissed Jamie. I _only_ kissed him. I did not give up my virtue, and yet, he called me a whore. I am _not_. I do not care if all of you think so."

"I don't think you're a whore," she said quietly. But she put emphasis on the wrong word: _I._ So, _she_ didn't think I was a whore, but the rest of them - Klaus, Elijah, Finn - certainly did.

A muscle in my jaw clenched as I fought back a wave of indignation and mild betrayal. "You can tell our eldest brothers to go fuck themselves. Although I'm sure Niklaus has Aurora to do it for him." And I left her there, in the dimly lit corner, tears pricking at the back of my eyes as I stormed off in a fit of sudden fury.

Fuck them. _Fuck them._ Apparently, I was not allowed to be happy, because they weren't. Finn was a miserable excuse for a man, Elijah was never _not_ worried about Mikael finding us, and Niklaus - well. He was happy enough, it seemed. He just hated for anyone _else_ to be happy if it stole even a sliver of attention away from him. And _I_ was the whore. Both he and Rebekah whored _constantly_ for affection, he because of Mikael's abuse and she because she was insecure.

It was as if he'd forgotten that Mikael abused me too. He hadn't beaten me as often as he did Niklaus, not even close, but I was the only other child he still _did_ beat. He hated me, sometimes more than Niklaus - and he _loathed_ him. Never Henrik, though. Mikael had cared a lot for his youngest son. It was just _me._

In hindsight, centuries later, I would come to realize it was because of Freya. He felt another magical daughter was a disservice to her memory, and despised me for it, despised me for seemingly replacing the only child he ever _truly_ loved. It didn't matter one way or another to me. I didn't deserve it. No explanation could justify how he treated me. Supposedly dead daughter or not.

But Niklaus and I used to share our maltreatment in common, and were irrevocably bonded over it. Back when he was my Nikky. Now he was becoming _Klaus_ , and our once close relationship was dissolving beneath my fingertips.

And he'd always had sway over Rebekah, and even Elijah. Soon enough, he would turn them against me. Finn was _already_ against me. All I would have left would be Kol, the only sibling who stood by me through thick and thin, and vice versa. In the end, it was him and me against the world. And to think, that had been once my beloved twin.

How things had changed.

"Ri!" My mood continued to sour as my favorite brother glided up from the opposite side of the hall, grinning away as if nothing was wrong and he wasn't a lying sack of shit. His smile faltered at the sight of my scowl. "What?"

Sighing hard and dramatically, I brushed past him, but quick as a flash, he latched onto my arm and refused to let go. _Excuse me?_ I stared down at his hand and considered crushing it. It would show him. Noticing my apparent fascination with his appendage, he quickly unhinged himself. "What's wrong, Ri?" Kol asked, a little warily. My siblings had learned to be a little afraid of my mood swings, something that genuinely saddened me, even if I couldn't control it most of the time.

"Oh, nothing." His eyebrows scrunched together. He was suspicious of my answer, that much was obvious. "Other than the fact that you're a fucking liar, of course," I said breezily, plastering on a bright smile for him.

Kol flicked his eyes up toward the ceiling and his impertinent gesture made me want to shove a spear through his throat. "What did Bekah tell you?"

I crossed my arms and huffed. "Oh, only that you've been making stray remarks about me and my activities. Which I found quite _strange_ , considering you," I lowered my voice as a pair of guards meandered by, "and I spend quite a lot of _quality time_ together, murdering village folk and whatnot."

His expression lost its humor and morphed into something uncharacteristically serious. "Are you giving yourself to that de Martel boy?"

Well, that was sudden. He always liked to cut right to the chase, but this was a little much, even for him. And giving myself? _Giving myself_? Why, I never! I stand corrected - all _four_ of my brothers thought me a whore. This was just bloody spectacular. "I'm not going to even dignify that with an answer, brother," I hissed, not bothering to hide how utterly offended I was by his question. "Of all of our siblings _you're_ the one meant to take my side."

Kol huffed right back. "I only want what's best for you, baby sister, and you've been acting awfully strange lately. You say I'm meant to trust you? That goes in reverse, too. You used to tell me everything."

A pang of guilt sailed through my chest. That was true. There never used to be secrets between us. But this was different. Jamie was . . . special, and I was not about to let my oafs of brothers ruin what we had together. "You don't tell me about your each and every conquest," I spat, and he seemed a little put off by the venom in my tone.

"Do you want to hear about them?" he asked lightly. "I would be more than happy to give you all the exciting details, but I try to spare you the worst of it, like a good brother would."

He had a point. I did not want an express report of Kol's antics in bed. "Then I'm a good sister by doing the same," I pointed out, and his features darkened. I wanted to punch myself in the face. That's not what I meant, not really. I hadn't been with Jamie - not like that, anyhow.

"Are you fucking him?" he asked bluntly, and my mouth dropped open in outrage. Son of a _whore_. Did he - did he just - ? His countenance softened then. "You can tell me if you are, you know. Sure, I won't throw a bloody party over it, but I won't go all Elijah on you either. I've been known to keep a secret, especially for you."

"Goodbye, Ollie, I will see you at the tourney," I signed, and stalked past him. This time, he didn't try to stop me.

What did it matter if I was _fucking_ Jamie, anyway? I wasn't, but what if I was? It's not like I could become pregnant; I was a walking damn corpse! And Klaus had a taste of Aurora on the side. Kol had plenty of sexual escapades, none of which I particularly wanted to know about. Elijah was no prude, especially not with Tatia, not so long ago. Henrik and I caught them having sex in the woods once when we were tasked with fetching water, and the two of us had stared, wide-eyed and bewildered, wondering why our noble brother was making such strange noises with a woman. We had been twelve years old at the time, and it was a very confusing experience.

…

 _Henrik and I hopped over roots and twigs and rabbit holes, tossing the empty wooden bucket back and forth. Our cheeks were reddened and inflamed with exertion, and laughter bubbled from our chests, blending together in a melody of happiness. "Last one to the river has to carry it back!" Henrik hollered, and as soon as I caught the bucket, I threw it back at him with all my scrawny, twelve-year-old might to throw him off balance. "Hey, that's cheating!"_

 _I paid him no mind as I bolted forward, faster than a rabbit running for its life, in the direction of the river bank. "You only say that because you're losing!" I taunted over my shoulder, reveling in the sounds of his grunts and curses behind me as he struggled to catch up._

 _He didn't have a chance in hell, because, well, I didn't like to lose. I propelled my legs forward and in a haze of glory, stumbled down the short but steep ravine to the shoreside. "I win, I win, I win!"_

 _Henrik caught up to me with a pout. "Cheater."_

 _I stuck my tongue out at him. "Loser."_

 _Muttering an insult under his breath, Henrik dropped to his knees and lowered the bucket into the river, swearing once more as the icy water splashed against his fingers. And that was when we heard it._

 _There were grunts, at first, not too far off from the sounds Henrik and I made as we charged through the forest. But they were different, somehow. More . . . intense._

 _Henrik opened his mouth to say something but I dragged my finger to my lips, shaking my head. Whoever was here miraculously did not manage to hear us, and it would not do to change that._

 _A high-pitched whimper sounded from beyond the river, and a shushing sound followed right after. Henrik tossed the now-forgotten bucket aside, and we exchanged a conspiratorial look. "What do you think they're doing?" I whispered in his ear, to which he only shrugged. We had not yet been taught of the wonders of the human body, so the most obvious explanation didn't even occur to us. "Do you think they're fighting?"_

" _Let's find out," he murmured back. And so, we stealthily slipped into the river and swam across, somehow managing not to splash on the way. Once we grew closer, a pair of voices were thrown into the mix._

" _Oh gods, Elijah, please -" another whine - "harder!" This voice belonged to a woman. Both Henrik and I faltered once we dragged ourselves out of the river._ Did she say Elijah? _our shared gaze seemed to ask._

" _If we're caught -"_

" _Oh, but that's the fun of it -"_

" _Niklaus will not forgive us -"_

" _Do not speak of him now, for gods' sake! Oh, yes, yes, right there, gods above, yes, Elijah -"_

 _As I was busy trying to connect the dots of why Elijah of all people was here, and why Nikky couldn't find out about whatever he was doing, poor clumsy Henrik stepped on a particularly crunchy twig, and it snapped under his foot. His eyes stretched impossibly wide as the grunts and moans immediately stopped. We were caught!_

 _There was a fumbling of what sounded like fabrics, but Henrik and I didn't stop to find out. We both hurried back toward the river, not bothering to be quiet about it anymore. Our bare toes entangled into a patch of grass and we were about to leap off the shore when a voice interrupted our escape. "Henrik, Aria?"_

 _We both gulped as a red-faced, flustered Elijah appeared into view. An equally embarrassed Tatia stood not far behind, but she soon disappeared into the forest without a word. Her dress was awfully crooked, though, which was rather unlike her._

 _Whatever humiliation Elijah was suffering from seemed to transfer directly into indignant anger. "What in the hell are you two doing out here?" he said loudly, his voice raised almost to a yell. Both Henrik and I flinched away from him. We adored Elijah, and respected him more than anyone. We absolutely hated when he shouted at us._

 _Henrik was caught in a bout of shyness, so with a trembling hand, I pointed at the bucket across the river. "We were sent to fetch water," I explained quickly, and Elijah's expression slackened, losing its hardness. "We heard noises and thought somebody was fighting and we wanted to see."_

 _Oh, how innocent we were. Elijah arrived to the same conclusion, as if he were thanking all the deities in the world that we didn't know a thing about sex. "Oh," he said lamely. "I apologize. Yes, well . . . Tatia wanted me to teach her to fight, you see."_

 _Henrik and I glanced at each other. "Really?" we questioned in unison, both a little dubious._

 _Elijah's blush returned full-force. "Yes. She heard the stories of the wolves and was frightened, and wanted me to teach her how to defend herself."_

 _That sounded reasonable enough, but - "Then why did she mention Niklaus?" I asked suspiciously. "Why would he care?"_

 _Elijah looked like he wanted to shove my head under the surface of the river for a very long time. "Er, he . . ." I narrowed my eyes. Elijah was acting awkward, stammering for an excuse, which was quite bizarre, considering how cool and collected he typically was. "Niklaus wanted to be the one to teach her to fight, and I fear he will be jealous if he hears I did it instead."_

 _In hindsight, we were excruciatingly stupid for accepting his shoddy and illogical explanation. "Oh, that makes sense," Henrik said, slowly relaxing as Elijah's ire dissipated._

 _Elijah's eyes widened imperceptibly. "It does?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, yes, of course it does, because it's the truth." He knelt down slightly to our heights, and reached to put a hand on each of our shoulders before seeming to think better of it. Looking back on it, I realized it was because his hands had probably been groping under Tatia's skirts, but at the time, I thought he was still a little angry at us. "You cannot tell Niklaus. Either of you." He took on a sterner expression. "Do you understand?"_

" _Yes," we chanted, and he finally relaxed, even cracking a warm, loving smile that I should have deduced was because he had just had sex and was, by default, in a good mood, but I was only happy that he had forgiven us. Elijah straightened to his full height. "You two were here to fetch water, correct?" We nodded our heads together, and he smiled again. "I will carry it back for you."_

 _Henrik and I chattered in excitement the whole way back, Elijah thoroughly humoring us, and the two of us were never the wiser._

…

What a fucking hypocrite. He was sticking his prick in that Petrova whore's dirty hole and I couldn't even _kiss_ a boy? What right did they have to judge me? The only brother who could _maybe_ toss a little judgement my way was Finn, because I was almost certain he was a virgin, but even then, he could shut his damn mouth.

As I stomped my way outside the gala, most people had the good sense to stay out of my way, for a multitude of reasons. One, I radiated an aura of pure rage and murder. Two, everyone thought I was insane anyway. They were fairly right, of course, but it was still a little hurtful.

Even when I stepped outside and was greeted with the birds chirping, the sun shining, and the breeze blowing, I was still in a shit mood. The endless pastures of green beauty did nothing to appease me, even though I usually appreciated the landscape on a good day. The hustle and bustle of servants and lords and ladies and knights did little to raise my spirits.

Until I saw a glimmer of fire among the crowd, and an indulgent smile crept its way to my lips, the weight that was settled on my shoulders lightening almost instantly. Jamie, adorned in an unfinished layer of armor, wove his way through the crowd with an infectious grin. "My lady!" He swooped for my hand, and pressed a chaste kiss on the back of it, although his ocean-blue eyes spoke of less chaste things as they raked over my dress and face. "You look . . ." His tongue trailed over his lips. "Exquisite." Ever so lightly, he touched the corner of my lips. "Is that rouge?"

"Thank you, my lord," I replied, pleased with his reaction. "And yes, it is." I leaned in, brushing my lips against his ear, and whispered, "When I kiss you, I want the world to see it."

Jamie visibly swallowed. "Hmm." A mischievous look crossed his handsome face. "I suppose that can be arranged."

With one last thorough look-over, he grabbed onto my hand and led me from the throng of people into a secluded, shadowed area behind the stables. "We will not be noticed here." Then, he offered me a kiss much more rewarding than his previous one. I melted into him as his lips parted mine. Feeling equally mischievous, I forced my tongue inside his mouth and explored.

He tasted delicious. After a few weeks of kissing furiously in the woods, I considered myself something of an expert - or at least, with _him_. I was certainly well-practiced by now. Neither of us had gone further than that, but there was only so much longer we could last before doing just that.

After all, we were young and wild and free. He was exciting and _fun_ and made me happier than I had been in a long, long time. If kissing him so passionately and often made me a whore in my family's eyes, then so be it. I was happy with him, and they could not ruin that for me. I wouldn't let them.

It was so, so tempting to give in to my inner beast and sink my teeth into the wet suppleness of his lips, and then drain him dry. As our mouths molded and danced against each other, pressure built inside my cheeks, and I was certain that if he stepped back and took a good look at me, he would notice the deadly redness of my eyes.

With much effort, I forced my monstrous features away just as my fangs pricked his bottom lip, and he moaned into my mouth, not noticing the unusual sharpness of my teeth. "Aria," he murmured as I raked my fingers through his hair, tugging on its roots. "You're killing me."

 _I could kill you_ , the back of my mind sang. _I could kill you before you could even blink._ But I didn't want to hurt him. Not him. Not ever.

The slightest tang of blood swirled against my tongue from when I'd pierced his lips, and I forcefully deepened the kiss, trying with everything in me to not turn it into something much more dangerous, as difficult as it was to maintain control. In a twisted sort of way, Elijah would be proud of me.

His hands roamed down my sides and hips, before cupping my backside, rutting against me, and hoisting me upward, wrapping my legs around his waist. The thrill of the movement sent a rush of tingles through my center, and I crossed my ankles behind his back. Turning my head, I began to press little kisses up and down his neck, sucking on the sensitive skin as I went. His blood raged beneath my lips, and I relished in the sound of his furious pulse. It occurred to me again that all I had to do was nip through the paper-thin defense of his skin and I would guzzle on the drink of gods.

"You will be the death of me," he gasped, and I pulled back right as my teeth grazed his throat. No, I would not be the death of him. I wouldn't allow it.

Ah, but he was aroused. I could feel his hardness poking against me, and I smirked at him, sliding down his torso to return to the dirt, keeping my arms slung around his neck. His shoulders were taut with barely suppressed energy, and he looked about two seconds away from jumping on me all over again.

Deciding to be extra bold, I palmed the front of his trousers, and he released the most appetizing groan imaginable. "God above," he panted, his orange hair flopping over his sweaty forehead as his darkened eyes sought mine. "You do realize I will have to fix this before the tourney, right?"

So, maybe I was still a _little_ naïve about sex. I felt a flicker of confusion. "Fix it?" What was there to fix? There was no malfunction, was there? Nothing _seemed_ wrong. In fact, it felt quite right. Did I mess it up? A horrible thought struck me. Did I hurt him?

A flush of red washed across his cheeks. "I cannot ride my horse if my . . ." His blush darkened, and he peered at me through his thick curtain of eyelashes, clearly willing me to understand. "If it's . . ."

"Hard?" I finished for him, wondering why he was so embarrassed. If his body reacted that way, then surely it was natural. But then again, when my center swelled with heat, it didn't feel so natural _._ It felt wonderful, yes, and I wanted to feel more of it, but it was also foreign and strange. Perhaps because it wasn't socially permissible on either of our parts.

"Yes," he forced out, his lips flattening into a thin white line. "If you'll excuse me -"

I halted his movements with a light touch on the shoulder. If I wanted to, I could have locked him in place with my far superior strength, but at the moment, a tap was all he needed to stay. He didn't very well want to leave. "I do not understand. Why must you fix this problem yourself when I am right here?"

Jamie's eyes grew comically wide. "A-Aria!" I only waited for him to calm himself, and he did, after a few moments of unintelligible sputtering. The vehemence of his reaction amused and befuddled me at the same time. "I-I cannot ask you to do that. It is . . . unladylike."

I awarded him with cheeky smile, pecking him on the cheek. "And I have told you, I am not a real lady."

"I don't care, you are to me," he muttered, and I couldn't help but embrace a rush of warmth at how painfully adorable he was. If he knew what I really was, he wouldn't be so quick to defend me. He would probably try to have me killed.

But that was another problem for another day.

I chose to stand firm, ignoring his faint and half-hearted protests. "I caused this problem in you, now let me fix it. What do you do to fix it?"

The poor boy looked as if he wanted the ground beneath us to open up and swallow him whole, not leaving even a trace of him behind. "I use my hands," he said quickly, looking anywhere but at me. He fixated his gaze on a raven squawking its little head off up overhead. "But, um, there are multiple ways for a lady to fix a man's . . . problems."

I maintained a pleasant curiosity, unbothered by his stuttering and evident awkwardness. "How so?"

"There is the obvious way, with the two of us in bed together and joined as one, but that will not leave your virtue intact, and so that is not an option." He was right; I wasn't ready for that yet. Maybe someday, but being physically ten and three and truly only ten and four, even I could admit my maturity was limited. "There's also your hands," he replied with a wavering voice, wringing his own hands together. "And your, um . . ."

"My what?" I prompted.

"Your mouth," he choked out, and if it were possible, his blush deepened. He looked like he wanted to drop dead. He kept staring at the stupid bird as if begging it to end his life somehow. "But I do not expect you to . . . I do not want you - well, that's not to say I don't _want_ you to, but -"

I considered my options as he continued to stammer and ramble on and on. I was not ready to give myself to him fully, and he knew that, and did not want it yet himself - or so he claimed. I did not know how a woman used her mouth on a man, but I was willing to learn. It was unlikely for me to figure it out before the tourney, but it was an intriguing concept.

And thus, I decided. "I will use my hands, if you show me how," I said firmly. Nobody could catch a glimpse of our mischief from where we hid behind the stables, anyhow. I didn't see anything wrong with it. Plus, it was a little exhilarating, and especially satisfying when I realized how furious my brothers would be if they found out. It added a thrill to the situation that I positively _loved._ When Jamie stood still as a stone, I flicked him on the forehead. "Go on, then. Unbutton your trousers and hand it over. We don't have all day."

The briskness of my tone must've shattered all lingering hesitance on his part, because he dissolved into chuckles and without another word, undid his belt and trousers, putting on display what had been hidden under layers of fabric. A smirk hid at the corner of my mouth. I liked what I was seeing. It was the first time I ever saw one, but I knew that size was an important factor, and I approved.

"Now what?" I asked, reaching down and encircling it with my hand. He stiffened, and his eyes fluttered closed. Evidently, the area was very sensitive. How strange. Experimentally, I squeezed tighter, and he _shuddered._ "Do I just move my hand?"

"Yes," he said, his voice a few octaves higher than normal, squeaking and cracking on the way out. It occurred to me the power I held over him at this moment. I had all his desires literally in the palm of my hand. I had complete and utter control over him. Locking away my inner predator, I began to slide my hand up and down his shaft, rhythmically increasing pressure and then speed. "A-ah!" he cried, his hand grasping onto my shoulder for balance. " _Aria_. . ."

"Do you like this?" I asked innocently, using my other hand as well to join in the fun. His incoherent series of mumbles and grunts more than answered my question. "It sounds like you do."

" _A-Aria_ ," was all he could say.

It did not take long to finish him, and I stepped carefully out of the way as a waterfall of creamy liquid gushed onto the dirt below, a curious mixture of brown and white. He trembled violently as he righted himself, redoing his belt. The buckle rattled beneath his hands. "You are a minx," he murmured, flashing me a pleased, now entirely relaxed grin. "When we get the chance, allow me to return the favor."

I tilted my head to the side, bewildered. Did I hear him right? "What do you mean 'return the favor?'" Sure, I didn't know a _lot_ about how opposing sexualities worked, but I had a good enough grasp of my human anatomy to understand that what I did to him was obviously not possible with me. I did not have his parts - surely he knew that. "I do not follow."

His knowing smile only widened, and now it was my turn to feel a little embarrassed. I could dish it out easily enough, but when it came down to it, I was clueless about anything sex-related, and didn't know how to handle that sort of speak when it was addressed to me. "Have you never," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "explored yourself?"

Words died a painful death in my throat. Was he trying to make this as awkward for me as it was for him? My mother, after explaining to me how the female body functioned, told me that it was improper for women to experience any pleasure outside of marriage, even if it was self-inflicted. Apparently men didn't follow the same code of conduct, but I was under the impression women were strictly forbidden from such actions. "Er, no," I said shortly, my cheeks flaming red.

His grin turned positively wicked. "The next time we are together, I aim to change that." He leaned forward, and his lips tickled my ear. "I think you will enjoy yourself very much. I will ensure it." This time, it was my turn to shiver, and he laughed softly into the crook of my neck. "Now you know how it feels." His fingers trailed down my jawline. "I must ready my horse before my own armor is finalized. Would you like to join me?"

My face felt very, very hot. I didn't know how he was doing this to me. It was as if he snatched all the control I previously had over him and now wielded it playfully against me. I wasn't so sure how I felt about it. A part of me, of which I didn't know the size or strength, sort of _liked_ it, though. "All right."

Jamie led the way into the stables, and there was a lone stable boy inside, not much older than either of us. At the sight of us, his eyes glinted and his nostrils flared from apparent amusement, and I abruptly wanted to die. "Hello, milord," he greeted, dipping his head in feigned respect. "Milady."

"Tom, my good man," Jamie coughed. They appeared to know each other to some degree. "It's a pleasure."

The boy seemed to swallow down a laugh. "Yes, I can see that." Oh. _Oh_. The little shit was making a euphemism. Self-consciously, I fiddled with my hair and noticed with dismay that it was in a state of mild disarray. Oh gods, I could only imagine what it looked like. My combs were still locked in place, but that didn't say much for the rest of my hair. "Shouldn't you have your armor finished, milord? The tourney is in only two hours."

Jamie fidgeted beside me. "Yes, yes. Er, I will."

"I haven't had a chance to dress up your horse, milord. Should I do that now?"

"I can do that," Jamie said pointedly, and the stable boy, Tom, took that as his cue to slip away, but not before he threw one more smirk over his shoulder as he left. Perhaps we had not been as discreet as I would've hoped. Jamie hadn't exactly been _quiet_.

"Ignore him," Jamie tried, and I offered a tight smile. As appealing as it sounded to sneak around behind my brothers' backs, if this somehow traveled back to them, then Jamie would die. No ifs, ands, or buts. Jamie would die, and I wasn't sure if I could recover from that. Not after Henrik, or Mother. I lost too much already. "Would you like to meet Athena?"

"Sure," I sighed. We couldn't exactly take it back now. What was done was done. I could only hope Tom would keep his fat mouth shut. If he didn't, one of my brothers would probably even kill him for serving merely as a messenger, so he had nothing to gain and everything to lose.

A beautiful, gleaming red horse peered down at me with kindly, warm eyes. All anxiety faded from me at the sight of her. I had only discovered the existence of horses within the past year, and I held a certain fondness for them already. They were pure, gentle animals. Nothing like humans. "Hello, girl," I crooned, reaching forward to pet her on the snout. She whinnied softly, nudging into my touch. "Why Athena?" I queried after a moment stroking her on the head. "Of all the Greek goddesses, most men would choose Aphrodite for such a stunning horse."

And she was stunning. In the weak sunlight that poured between the cracks in the rooftop and wooden boards of the stable, her coat glimmered fire. She was tall, and taut muscles rippled beneath her short fur. A hot pelt of air puffed from her nose, and she neighed again, as if agreeing with me.

"Beauty is fleeting," Jamie said, preparing her saddle and coat of arms, her armor waiting beside her. "She is a clever horse. Wise, I daresay. Aphrodite didn't seem appropriate for her. And anyway," his lips curved up into a quick grin, "the last time someone chose Aphrodite over Athena, the Trojan War happened. Better safe than sorry."

I looked into the horse's deep, endless pools of eyes and felt a pang of indescribable sadness. Henrik would have loved horses. He had loved all animals, and secretly hated hunting them. He would have been awestruck at the sight of them, awestruck that such magnificent creatures walked the Earth.

And now he would never know.

Tears burned at my eyes, but I hastily blinked them away. I had cried enough over him, hadn't I? And yet, it wasn't enough. It would never be enough to convey the grief I carried with me, always and forever.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Jamie's quiet question pierced my bout of intense sadness. "Your twin brother."

I hadn't told Jamie much about my family. He had known about Henrik since that fateful night we met, and I briefly mentioned my mother's death, and my father's absence. But I hadn't quite delved into the circumstances of either of their deaths. I didn't dare. He knew Henrik died from wolves, but he hadn't known they were _were_ wolves, and I did not plan to tell him. And I couldn't very well tell him that my father murdered my mother, could I?

"Yes," I said with equal quietness. A small, gentle smile played at my lips. "He was so sweet, and friendly, and _happy_. He would have loved it here. All the grass, and the rolling hills, and the horses. He would have loved it all." A slight tremor worked its way into my voice. "But he will never see it." My lips trembled as I fought back the approaching storm of tears. "We did not have horses where I come from. It's stupid to think of, I know. I do not know why this hurts me especially, of all things. But . . . he will never ride a horse."

"I'm sorry, Aria," Jamie said, sincerity wafting from every inch of him. He covered my shaking hand on Athena's mane with his, and I forced myself to calm down. "I wish he could ride a horse, my sweet. I wish I could bring him back to life for you." His lips quirked down. "I wish it almost as much as I wish I could bring my own mother back to life." Curiously, I met his earnest gaze. He had hardly mentioned his mother before, only that he had a different one from Aurora and Tristan. I had filled in the blanks when I realized she wasn't here.

"Tell me about your mother," I whispered, chancing a watery smile to encourage him.

Jamie's other hand scratched his horse behind the ears, and his eyes clouded over in thought and old sadness. "I don't remember much of her. She passed when I was a small child from a terrible sickness. But I do remember that she was kind and beautiful. She had hair like the sun, and eyes like the ocean. I think I remember her smile most of all. Whenever she smiled at me, I could feel how much she loved me." His expression dimmed. "She even smiled at me when she died, so I wouldn't feel sad." His jaw tightened and tears of his own magnified the vivid blue in his eyes. "It didn't quite work."

I didn't know what to say. She sounded like a wonderful woman. My own mother had been loving and kind and beautiful. But I couldn't forgive her for what she did. Doomed me to an eternity without my other half, and stole the one comfort I had left - my magic. I still missed her sometimes, though. How could I not? No matter what she did, she was still my mother. "I'm sorry, Jamie."

A single tear formed on his orange lashes and rolled down his cheek. "You would have loved her," he mumbled. "And she would have loved you."

Despite my best efforts, a wave of moisture broke past my defenses and streamed down my cheeks. "Perhaps your mother and my brother are watching over us now, together. Perhaps those two kind, beautiful souls have found each other, and," my breath hitched, "and they are not alone."

With a strangled gasp, Jamie reached for me, and drew me into a tight embrace. I wound my arms around his neck and buried my face into his tunic. "Do you think so?" he breathed into my hair, his fists grasping at my dress. "Do you think they've found each other, perhaps, and they watch over us?"

I couldn't be sure. Not really, anyhow. Nobody had any clue of what came after death, no matter how many religions tried their hands at explaining it. I was not arrogant enough to assume I had the answers, but - "Yes, I think so. I think they've both found peace."

I smiled at the thought of my brother finding peace. That was all he ever truly wanted. Nothing could ever heal the heartache his death caused me, but somehow, Jamie's presence helped soothe the hurt. I cared about him, I realized. A lot. Maybe I even . . . No, I refused to think about that. Not now.

Pulling away from the hug, I patted him on the cheek, brushing away his stray tear with my thumb. "Come, Jamie. You have a tourney to win."

 **A/N: So, anyway, I hope you guys liked that mess of a chapter. Next chapter will have some comic relief with the entire Mikaelson clan at the tourney, and I think it'll be fun. There will also be a big moment at the end of it, where Jamie finds out Aria's little secret. Tell me what ya think in the reviews! :D**


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